A Game of Cops and Robbers
by BananaB0mb
Summary: The game only gets more dangerous as time goes on. Post Sly 3.
1. Game Over 1

**EDIT (05.30.12): **Due to some noted concerns, I've gone ahead and edited this chapter, and others, just to get rid of some of the problems. The story hasn't changed at all so no worries to old readers, but just giving a heads up if one of you happen to go back and re-read Chapter 1, 2, and now, 3 and happen to notice some differences.

**Hello, hello. Here's going to be an attempt at writing a full story saga and stuff. Not sure how it'll go, but the idea kept coming back and refused to leave me until I ended up writing scenes that won't even appear until far later into this story. **

**So here we are. Hope you all enjoy the ride!**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch.

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Chapter 1: Game Over 1

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At 5 AM, Bentley Turtle hardly believed he would be awake and opening the door for an unexpected visitor. If someone had told him that this was how his evening would go, he would have laughed in their faces. For one, it was very late, and the disabled turtle had a job to be at in 3 hours. And for another, Bentley and Penelope weren't exactly the most social of people. The few they interact with regularly would have come around at a decent hour, and certainly not before calling. Not that the couple had been in constant touch with any of them in the last few months now, but they knew them all well enough to know this was not the case.

Fearing the worst, Bentley grabbed one of the smoke bombs he usually kept on his person at all times. If the situation got out of hand, he was prepared to throw the device down, grab Penelope, and escape their apartment. Some old habits die hard, and the turtle had become accustomed to being armed somewhat even when at his job.

When he opened the door, the genius turtle shivered in his wheelchair, now wanting to kick himself (ironically enough) for not wearing something warmer to bed. The chill that greeted him nearly stole his breath away, but what really made his jaw drop in shock and render him speechless, was who was standing on his doorstep.

"_S-Sly_?" Bentley stammered, bewildered. "Why - who - where-?"

Completely blown away by the fact Sly Cooper of all people was standing at the threshold of his apartment stole Bentley of any comprehensible words.

Sly, a long time friend and brother, gave a sheepish grin while lifting a paw in greeting. The icy cold wind tore at the lithe raccoon's body, making him shiver. He was sporting a simple pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, much to Bentley's surprise. Even as the raccoon stood there, another swell of wind blew a few leaves into Bentley's apartment, reminding the turtle of how cold it really was.

Once Bentley was able to swallow his shock, he asked, "_what_ are you doing here?"

The raccoon scratched his chin for a moment before chuckling. "Just thought I'd come by for a… visit."

Eye narrowing, Bentley crossed his arms across his chest. "It's been 2 months since we last saw each other, and you decided that _now_ was an appropriate time to drop in for a visit?"

His voice carried that calculating and doubtful tone Sly knew so well; he'd missed it.

"Some uhh… circumstances came up," Sly shrugged. When he did so, Sly let out a small hiss of pain, and he stopped before the action pulled any further. The sharp intake of breath made Bentley's eyebrows raise in worry.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Why are you even here?" he asked in a flurry of words. Another gust of wind pushed more leaves into the apartment, making the turtle jump when he realized where he was having this conversation with his friend. "Sorry Sly. Come on in. But you need to tell me what's going on."

Sly nodded gratefully, and stepped over the threshold into the small hallway. To his right he spotted a small kitchen, with a few appliances tucked away in the corners, and white cabinets. As Bentley shut the door, ignoring the leaves on the floor (he'd sweep those later), he ushered Sly deeper into the apartment. Wheeling himself towards the living room, he flipped on a lamp and winced when the bright light made his tired eyes ache.

The raccoon seemed indifferent to the sudden change in light. If anything, he was wide awake, and the way his body tensed gave the appearance that Sly was ready to bolt at any second. This made Bentley want to sit him down and question everything that happened even more.

True, they had met a handful of times over the course of the year, however Sly decided that it was best they stopped their little rendezvous, incase they were caught. And mostly to throw Carmelita off his tail. Their last 'poker game' (as aptly named by Sly himself), was nearly 2 months ago, and although Bentley missed his friend, he was too exhausted to interrogate Sly right this moment. He decided to ask a few questions, and then head off to bed to nab at least another hour of sleep before heading off to work.

Sly sat himself on one of the two couches in the living room. He glanced around at the cozy abode, noticing that everything was properly organized, and clean. Most likely the hand of Penelope, as Bentley wasn't exactly the most organized guy when it came to living quarters. Mess with his plans, and computers though, and the turtle wasn't beyond tossing a bomb at the offending person; which in most cases ended up being Sly himself.

"So," Bentley started as he wheeled himself into the kitchen to grab a cup of water for his friend. "What brings you around at this time? Which, by the way, a call would have been much appreciated."

A wistful grin appeared on his face, before the raccoon sighed, and hung his head. "A few things have come up that I can't really avoid anymore. Let's just say, not everything is going to plan."

Bentley came back with a frown on his face, and handed his friend the cup. "What do you mean?"

Sly took a moment to drain the cup in one gulp. "Haven't you heard about those robberies going around?"

The turtle took a moment to think back. He wasn't one to read newspapers, or watch the news every day like some people. Some would say Bentley was out of the loop on a lot of things - something he wouldn't argue against. The only times he'd actually kept up with the news, was during their thieving days, and that was only because Sly wanted to read what newspapers said about him, and would then leave the papers lying about everywhere in their safe houses. Maybe he'd heard one or two things, but not enough to dwell about it. "I haven't. Sorry, Sly."

"If you did, it would save me a lot of time you know," Sly smiled tiredly. "Anyway, there's been a ton of robberies going around. And it seems like each time there is, they find one of my calling cards."

At this notion, Bentley straightened in his wheelchair. His eyes widened behind his glasses, and he uttered a simple, "what?"

"Yeah," Sly laughed. "Of course, I haven't stolen anything in months now, but unfortunately, Interpol isn't very easy to convince. I did manage to get them off my back for a bit, but… now it seems like the evidence is pointing directly at me."

"What else have they found? Any fingerprints?"

Sly shook his head. In the short time he had been speaking with Bentley, Sly had managed to relax. He'd even been slouching against the cushions, but now that he was talking about this, he was tense again. It was obvious that the raccoon was under a lot of stress because of this problem. "Nope. No fingerprints. No surveillance footage either. Just nothing. The only thing they leave behind is one of my calling cards."

Bentley cursed under his breath. This was a very serious problem indeed.

"I'm about this close-" Sly continued by holding two fingers apart by about an inch, "-to being arrested. It's only because I've managed to convince the higher ups at Interpol that I'm innocent, that I'm not in jail right now. But the evidence is piling up and my alibis are sounding weaker by the day."

If Bentley still had the use of his legs, he would have been pacing worriedly right about now. All he could do was sit in his chair, and scowl at a spot on the floor, deep in thought. Silence fell between the two, as they both began to think of any possible solutions to this current predicament.

"There is one other thing though," Sly piped up again, breaking Bentley out of his thoughts. "Carmelita said she saw me running away from a break-in at a museum tonight."

"_What?_"

Sly chuckled at seeing Bentley's face. The turtle's normally bright green face had paled, with the small spots of dark green spattered across his beak-like nose standing out. Sly could only imagine how wide Bentley's eyes were behind those absurdly huge glasses he wore. It never failed to bring a smile to Sly's face when he saw Bentley panic over something. True, Sly himself was panicking about this entire mess - not that he would ever actually show it - but now that he had someone to help that actually _believed_ him, he could actually calm down somewhat. These last few weeks had been hell for Sly. From constantly being afraid someone would realize all the holes in his amnesia story, to being afraid Carmelita would find out, and to now being threatened with a jail sentence.

For crimes he wasn't even committing no less.

Bentley pushed his glasses up his nose, and said shakily, "t-that's unexpected, and new."

The raccoon nodded, and leaned back on the couch again. "Normally I'd say it was a trick of the light or something, but Carmelita was so set on it being me, I… kind of got chased out of my apartment tonight."

"Hmm…" Bentley went quiet, thinking again. Finally, after a few terse minutes he said, "do you have any leads at all?"

It was Sly's turn to think, and he sat up again, looking tense and serious. "There's been a few cops actually, who aren't very happy I'm at Interpol. Although, the last thing I want to do is suspect them."

"Without any other leads, that's probably the best thing we have to go on though," sighed Bentley. "If you give me their names, I can probably research a few things, and check their backgrounds out for you."

Sly brightened. "You'd really do that for me?"

"What are brothers for?" Bentley grinned.

A swell of emotions tightened Sly's throat, and he cleared it in embarrassment. It made him think back on the many adventures they'd gone through, and back to one of the few heists they'd pulled at Happy Camper Orphanage years and years ago. Sly had actually said the very same thing to Bentley before, and it was apparent the words had stuck with the disabled turtle to this day.

"Thanks pal," Sly said in the sincerest way possible.

Bentley nodded, grabbed a pad of paper, and pen from the table and slid them over to Sly. "Just write down the names for me here, and I'll start researching their backgrounds." While Sly wrote down the names in a hurried scrawl, Bentley took the chance to look at the clock, and saw that it was now half past 5, which meant he had just a bit more time to go and catch another nap. Bentley had already decided to call in sick to work so that he could help his friend in his current situation.

"Look, it's kind of late for me to do any research," Bentley said while turning back to Sly. "I'll take the day off work, and you can stay here if you want. I'm pretty sure Inspector Fox might be out looking for you right now, and well… she might not be willing to listen to much reason."

Sly paused in his writing. He tapped the pen against his chin, but shook his head in the end. "It'd probably look more suspicious if I didn't go back into work tomorrow - uh - today I mean."

Bentley raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure Inspector Fox won't arrest you? She certainly didn't hesitate in all those years she chased us."

"Yeah, well…" Sly muttered as he finished off writing down the names. "I'll deal with it when it comes. At this point, doing anything out of the ordinary will have my tail in jail."

"You're right," sighed Bentley. He took the proffered pad of paper and looked down critically at it. "Sly, these are a lot of names."

Sly shrugged, and chuckled. "Let's just say I'm _really_ good at making friends."

The turtle simply shook his head, and placed the pad on his knees. He wheeled himself to a small closet by the door, and pulled out a blanket, then wheeled back to toss it at Sly. "Well, since you can't really go back to your apartment at the moment, take a nap here until you need to go into work. I'll let Penelope know what's going on when she wakes up."

Taking the blanket, and tossing it around his shoulders, Sly gave his disabled friend a thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan. You know, I've really missed listening to them. Maybe one day you can tell me a bed time story about them? It's been a while since I've had a really good nap like that."

Bentley snorted, and turned to go back to his bedroom. "Good night, Sly."

Sly waved a paw and grabbed one of the cushions to make his stay on the couch a bit comfier.

As he settled back to try and get some more sleep, many thoughts ran through his head. The idea that someone was out to get him, and pull the life he now had back from his grasp was bothering him immensely. It felt like a constant itch in his throat he couldn't get rid of no matter how many times he cleared it. There were a ton of enemies he had, both from his thieving days, and from being a cop, so it was hard to know who exactly was trying to frame him.

Sighing, he turned to glower at the wall, as though it had personally wronged him. It was still dark outside, but light was filtering in through the partially closed blinds from the streetlights outside and from the rising sun in the distance. A check of his watch told him that it was now 6 AM, which meant in about 2 hours he would need to be back at work.

A grimace graced his features at the idea.

Going back meant having to face Carmelita again, and just that prospect made him want to lie on the couch forever. At the very least, Bentley had accepted him back without much protest, but Sly felt just a bit guilty for suddenly showing up out of the blue again. If it were Sly in Bentley's shoes, he would have accepted either of his friends back without a second thought. Silently, he wondered if Murray would be called back into this too, and somehow that prospect was even less appealing than it was pulling Bentley into this mess.

He'd had no choice though, and even with that thought in mind, he was regretting running to Bentley, like a child would, for a solution.

Sly grabbed a pillow, and smothered himself in it while growling angrily.

This was not how everything was supposed to go.

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**Hm. Let's see which direction this'll go off to… I'm pretty excited to get this story rolling, so let me know what you all think!**

**Until next chapter.**


	2. The Risk of the Game

Last Edited: (05.30.12)

**Thanks so much to the people who showed interest in this. I didn't expect that sort of feedback, honestly. Also to answer what someone said in a review... Yes, I'm well aware Sly 4 is coming out in the Fall. And I am, of course, extremely excited for it. **

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

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Chapter 2: The Risk of the Game

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Inside the belly of an Interpol ship, Sly Cooper lay on a cot, watched by Inspector Carmelita Fox. He was silent, save for his breathing as he slept off the injuries, and possible concussion he might have after ramming into the wall of the Cooper vault. Carmelita's stern gaze roamed his prone figure and landed on the bandages wrapped hastily around his torso.

The bright blue sweater he normally wore had been scorched away by Dr. M's last attack. What little had remained clinging to his shoulders was cut away to let the on hand medic take care of his wounds. Currently shirtless, Sly's chest rose steadily with his deep breathing a clear sign his ribs were intact, if somewhat bruised from the attack. The bandages, although hastily wrapped around the burnt flesh, was one of the few luxuries offered to the thief; not that he was conscious to even appreciate it. There were silver handcuffs clipped to his wrist, that Carmelita herself had placed to ensure even if the raccoon awoke, he wouldn't be going anywhere. Not that he could even try, considering they were currently in the middle of the ocean on their way back to Paris and he had amnesia.

Sighing, she relaxed in the chair at his side feeling tired. She raked a shaky paw through her dark curls. Thoughts raced through her mind as she went back to a few hours ago.

Landing on Kaine Island, she'd not been expecting the major war going on between the Cooper gang, and the insane Dr. M. One of the very last things she'd expected as well, was to see the master thief being crushed to death in the claw of some sort of… creature. Even now she had no clue what to even name it. Although, the mercenaries she'd taken had dubbed it 'The Beastie' and refused to even think of renaming it.

Something she had never felt before tightened in her chest and without a second thought, had commanded the hired mercenaries to attack. Once 'The Beastie' had been incapacitated for the moment, Carmelita went to rush to Sly's side, but was stopped when she saw a familiar turtle in a wheelchair rush to his side accompanied by others she didn't recognize. Because of this, Carmelita wasn't sure if the raccoon was quite alright, but had found herself forgetting about it because of a much bigger battle brewing when 'The Beastie' suddenly turned its sights on her.

After a few more hours of battling her way through 'The Beastie', and other strange creatures, Carmelita had found herself in front of a giant door with a very familiar hooked engraving on the front. If she hadn't seen the icon clenched in the fist of her favorite criminal so many times, the vixen would have most likely turned on her heel and left. But she hadn't, and luckily for Carmelita, the door was wide open. Once inside, she'd realized that getting through the extravagant vault would be difficult.

Carmelita still wasn't sure if it was by pure dumb luck she got past all the traps, or if something else had been guiding her through.

Eventually she did make her way through and found herself in front of another obstacle. Another large door emblazoned with the raccoon head Sly usually left at crime scenes blocked her way in. But Carmelita had simply raised her shock pistol, put it up to full voltage and fired. The door buckled immediately, and she'd fired one last time before finally bursting through the dented door.

The vixen had leapt right into the middle of a heated battle between the crazed Dr. M, and Sly Cooper himself. Her sudden appearance had caused a lull in action between the two, and she'd noted with critical eyes at how the raccoon appeared beat up and injured. The smile on his face reassuring her without words had made the vixen, for some reason, actually feel… relieved he was okay.

After bantering with him for a heartbeat, the baboon seemed to notice a connection between the two and had taken aim at Carmelita herself. The flash of red light had frozen her in place for the moment. What she hadn't expected, was to see a figure running full pelt at her, to be shoved to the floor, and to watch in horror as Sly was hit with the blast and sent flying. She would never forget the sound of his body slamming into one of the walls, and how his limp body crumpled to the floor without a word…

Carmelita jolted suddenly when the ship surged to the side by an unexpected wave. Disoriented, the vixen realized that she had fallen asleep at the raccoon's side. She glanced down again and saw that he still remained unconscious.

She stood and stretched her limbs, just as the door to the small room opened. In walked one of the mercenaries, a large purple ape, who saluted her. "Inspector, we'll be approaching Paris in approximately 4 hours. Interpol contacted us again, and the Commissioner and Chief will be there to greet you."

She cringed at the thought of having to confront the two, but shook it off. "Thank you, Lieutenant Gronk. I'll be up there in a moment."

Gronk nodded, and left, shutting the door behind himself. Carmelita let out another sigh, and glanced back at the raccoon. Although it worried her that in the 8 hours they'd been on course back to Paris he hadn't woken up once, she also knew that all the injuries he'd sustained on Kaine Island were serious enough to warrant his condition.

She reached a paw forward subconsciously, and gently smoothed the fur on his cheek. Realizing what she was doing, Carmelita's eyes widened, and immediately pulled away as though burned.

Sly remained silent, oblivious to her actions, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Mentally chastising herself and flushing furiously, Carmelita decided that perhaps it was best to go up to the deck and check everything was fine on the ship. Even as she glanced over again, Carmelita could see a few spots beginning to permeate the pristine white bandages which meant they would need to be changed again soon.

Closing the door behind herself, Carmelita carefully made her way up to the deck of the ship. She stumbled every once in a while as the ship crashed through waves and swayed with each movement. The cool air felt wonderful on her still heated face, and she welcomed it with a small tug on her lips. Once on the deck, her eyes scanned around, to see a few of the mercenaries walking about or resting. The person she was looking for wasn't there, so Carmelita turned and stepped over to the stairs leading up to the bridge, the only other place the person could be.

Sure enough, it was there she found who she was looking for.

"Dr. Harrison."

Said female rabbit looked up over her horned rimmed glasses at the vixen standing at the door of the bridge. Wearing a simple white sweater, and brown slacks, Ophelia Harrison was a demure and petite woman with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her large blue eyes were doe-like in appearance, but held a wisdom that could only come from being a doctor. She was currently winding new bandages around one of the crew member's arms where a jagged cut was. "I'll be right with you, Inspector," she responded.

Carmelita waited patiently for the medic, and leaned against the doorframe looking on as Ophelia work. Once finished, the rabbit stood, gave what seemed like a stern lecture to the sheepish gorilla, and turned to Carmelita.

"What do I owe the visit for? Do you need me to look over your injuries?" she asked softly. Even as she said this, her eyes glanced over to the large bandage plastered atop Carmelita's brow, and to her shoulder where the gauze was hidden by Carmelita's jacket.

The vixen shook her head. "No. It's Cooper. He needs his bandages changed again."

Ophelia frowned. "So soon? Maybe his wounds are worse than I thought." She said no more, and grabbed the bag she always kept on her person filled with medical supplies. Her blue eyes took a quick inspection of her bag and she let out another huff. "I'm hoping no one else is going to need a change. I'm running out of supplies."

"No worries," Carmelita nodded. "We'll be back in Paris before you know it."

With a nod, the rabbit followed Carmelita back to the small room where Sly was resting.

To Carmelita's immense surprise it was to find the raccoon finally awake and sitting up, if looking somewhat befuddled to where exactly he was. His usually bright brown eyes were clouded with pain, and he looked over at the two women who entered.

With eyebrows raised in surprise, he said, "Inspector Fox. It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise," Carmelita replied without an ounce of emotion, hoping that the two didn't notice how glad she was to see Sly was okay. A shiver had run up her spine, a very familiar sensation she usually got when Sly spoke to her. The tight feeling in her chest now loosened and relief spread through her limbs. It was good to see him awake again, even if she didn't exactly show it.

Ophelia strode around the inspector, and gave a shy smile at the handsome raccoon. "You probably won't remember me, but my name is Dr. Harrison. And," she gazed down at his injuries, "it looks like I'm right on time to change your bandages."

Sly actually looked surprised when he looked down at his bandaged torso and chest. The spots Carmelita had seen before were now larger, and soaking through. He chuckled softly. "Looks like it."

The rabbit set down her bag on the bedside table, and gestured for Sly to sit up a bit straighter. He did so with a bit of a struggle, wincing and pulling in a sharp breath when his ribs protested angrily. Sly wasn't sure where he was exactly, but the way the room seemed to be swaying meant he was on a ship. Most likely an Interpol ship as Carmelita was standing at the doorway. Another look down saw him staring at a pair of handcuffs on his wrist, and he raised an eyebrow up at the vixen.

Realizing just what this meant, Carmelita quickly said, "it was just a precaution. To make sure you didn't get up while injured."

He seemed to accept the lie, and nodded.

Ophelia gave Carmelita a questioning look, but thankfully didn't say another word. She went to work, carefully unwinding the gauze. When the bandages were cut away, Carmelita cringed at seeing the injury again. It was a large burn that had singed away most of the fur on Sly's torso and chest leaving the flesh underneath raw. It wasn't bleeding much, thanks to the wound being cauterized almost immediately by the laser Dr. M had used, but burnt flesh was beginning to flake away. Even as they stared, a few spots of blood welled up and trickled down his torso. The salve Ophelia had used a few hours ago still clung to the wound and it looked much better than before, but it still looked extremely painful.

Sly whistled softly as he flinched at the injury. "I guess I got off lucky," he joked pitifully.

None of the women replied to his quip, but Ophelia immediately went to work like the professional she was. She reached into her bag, and extracted another roll of bandages, and some more of the salve from before. She carefully spread the salve across his chest, making the raccoon hiss in pain. However, he remained still and let the medic do what she needed to do and soon enough, she was winding new bandages around the wound. Once done, she extracted a bottle from her bag and shook two pills into his palm.

"Take these," she said even as she replaced everything in her bag. She reached for a bottle of water in her bag, and went to give it to him but found the raccoon had dry swallowed the pills with a grimace. Ophelia made what sounded like a disapproving noise in the back of her throat, but she didn't chastise him for it.

"Those pills will help with the pain," she continued. "You're lucky those are only second degree burns, but when we get back you'll most likely be put into a hospital until a court date is-"

"Dr. Harrison!" Carmelita cut across in a panic. She turned to look at the vixen, her eyes questioning again. Carmelita gave Sly a sheepish smile before herding Ophelia outside into the hallway.

When the door was shut behind them, the rabbit immediately began her interrogation. "Inspector, what's going on? You make it sound like you don't want him to know he's going to jail!"

"Listen," Carmelita sighed. A headache was beginning to form in her temples but she ignored it. "I haven't told anyone, expect the Commissioner, but Cooper has amnesia. He woke up not knowing who or where he was. The only thing I could do was tell him he was a Constable."

"A _what?_" Ophelia exclaimed in shock. Her jaw dropped open, a very un-Ophelia action as the rabbit was usually quiet, and polished. Even as Carmelita attempted to get the rabbit to lower her voice, Ophelia continued with, "Inspector, what were you thinking? How's Commissioner Arks going to take it? Or Chief Barkley? Do they know that Cooper thinks he's a _Constable?_"

Carmelita cringed. "No they don't know. And I'm not sure what they'll do, but I'm prepared for it. Just please. Don't say a word to the crew, or to Cooper until I can speak with Commissioner Arks in person and tell them what happened in full."

A sigh escaped Ophelia. She peeked back at the door where they'd just left a bewildered Sly and then turned back to Carmelita. The vixen looked frazzled and even unsure of herself, which was very unlike her. Carmelita was well known for keeping her cool, and being very sure of her actions in any type of situation, so to see her be so doubtful was a bit strange. Ophelia bit her lip.

"Alright," the medic conceded. "I won't say a word. But I hope you understand what could happen, Inspector."

"I'm well aware," Carmelita said firmly. Yes, she was more than prepared to do whatever it took to try and get Sly out of jail; even if it meant she would be kicked off the force. It seemed highly unfair to the vixen to throw a man into jail who had no knowledge of his previous crimes. Even if the man was Sly Cooper. When that little voice inside taunted her, saying that the only reason she was doing this was because she harbored feelings for him, she would silence it immediately.

Carmelita didn't want to believe such a thing. Of course, Sly Cooper was handsome, and whenever he flirted with her during their chases, she'd feel a strange sort of elation in her heart she didn't feel with anyone else. And of course, they both had a long history together, including all those times he had saved her life. He'd even done so not more than a few hours.

Carmelita owed this much to the thief.

It wasn't because she loved him or anything.

Wrenched out of her thoughts by a paw on her shoulder, Carmelita blinked down at the rabbit who gave her a knowing smile and left. Carmelita scowled after the medic's retreating back, yelling down the hall, "don't give me that look!"

Meanwhile in the room, Sly grinned to himself at hearing the raised voice of the lovely inspector. He knew exactly what they were discussing, not because he could hear their voices, but because he knew there was only one thing they could be talking about.

His supposed 'amnesia'.

Truthfully, when Sly had come to in the vault in Carmelita's arms, he'd really had no idea who or where he was. It was only after they'd escaped the collapsing interior and passed by a torn portrait of his dad, that all his memories had come flooding back. Shocked that Carmelita had done such a thing as lying to him about who he was, Sly hadn't said a word to her. Somehow, taking the dive into something so delicate, especially because he could finally be with the vixen without any barriers, was too tempting to pass up. He knew it was because after nearly dying in the hands of Dr. M's creature, that trying to skip around that feeling in his heart was no longer an option. His feelings for Carmelita had grown too large over the years and it was with that frightful experience that Sly had decided to try and make things right with her.

He didn't care if the vixen threw him in jail even after he'd confessed to her about his feelings. Just knowing that he had finally gotten the words out would have been enough for Sly.

But, funnily enough, Carmelita had taken the initiative and done it for him. So now Sly could just sit back, and enjoy the ride.

A sigh escaped from him, and he carefully laid back on the bed. Yeah, maybe doing something like this would be better. Another grin lit up his features.

After all, what fun was a game of cops and robbers without a little bit of risk?

* * *

A young looking coyote with sandy colored fur stood on the docks of Paris, staring out at a distant shape on the horizon. Glasses perched on top of his nose did nothing to hide the sharp amber orbs gazing outwards. Dressed in a simple white dress shirt, black pants and a black trench coat, one could tell this man was one of importance. Commissioner Isaac Arks remained still at his post, his broad shoulders straight against the strong wind even as his coat flapped endless in the breeze. With his paws clenched loosely behind his back, the only thing that betrayed his stoic appearance was his tail, which swayed slowly behind him.

Still keeping a sharp lookout, he could see the shape in the distance was now getting closer.

The sound of gravel shifting from behind warned Isaac of a visitor. Already knowing who it was, he simply said, "I daresay they'll be docking soon."

From behind the young coyote stood a shorter and much wider badger, with bushy eyebrows and a cigar sticking out from the corner of his mouth. Chief Howard Barkley cleared his throat, and exhaled a large cloud of smoke. His heavily lidded brown eyes looked past the Commissioner out to where the ship was getting closer. "Seems so. Inspector Fox will be seeing us as soon as she steps off that boat."

"Of course." Isaac pulled his glasses off from their perch and fished a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his coat without another word. As he cleaned his glasses though, he spoke up again. "Tell me if I'm wrong Barkley, but we've been informed that Sly Cooper will be on that boat, correct?"

"Yes sir," Barkley responded. His cigar now spent, he took one last pull before tossing it on the ground and stamping it out with the heel of his shoe. "We have several officers ready to escort the thief to a holding cell until a court date is set."

Isaac made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. "Is that so…"

The old badger raised a bushy eyebrow but didn't say a word. He had many years of experience when it came to dealing with the rather… _eccentric_ Commissioner. Despite being 24 years his junior, Isaac Arks was a notable figure at Interpol as it was rather surprising to see someone so young rise so quickly to the rank of Commissioner. Despite this, Isaac was normally hailed as a just and fair man even with several questionable decisions under his belt. The man had yet to steer Interpol astray and it was because of this that Barkley had grown to respect the Commissioner.

Barkley cleared his throat again. "I'm sorry if this out of line, Commissioner Arks… but it sounds as though you're planning something."

Isaac looked over his shoulder at the shorter badger. A smile graced his handsome features, and his amber eyes held that spark to them that had earned him both the respect, and the discretion of many. "Does it now? What gave it away?"

Eyebrows furrowing into a frown, Barkley only chose to shake his head. "I won't question whatever your decision is, sir. It'll be for the best of Interpol, I'm sure."

As he said this, the ship they were waiting for was finally turning into the docks. Activity all across the pier brought their ears to twitch as figures ran about leading the ship in further. The crashing of waves against the rocks below nearly managed to drown the groaning from the ship as it came to a halt in a section held for ships like these. Another loud splash and the two knew that the anchor had been thrown over the side. More crashing echoed loudly through the wharf, as a long platform eased down the side of the ship right over the words _Interpol_ emblazoned on the side.

As the two authority figures began their way to the base of the platform to await the crew, Isaac chuckled softly, and said, "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, Barkley."

Carmelita was the first figure to emerge from the ship. She took a moment to stand on the deck and inhale the fresh sea breeze and thank her lucky stars for finally being docked. The ship still rocked slightly from the waves crashing against it's sides, so Carmelita began her descent down the platform to the pier slowly. Her hired mercenaries, along with Ophelia and Sly - who limped slightly because of his wounds - brought up the rear.

She wasn't at all surprised to see the tall coyote and slouched badger waiting for her at the end. She also noted two officers standing just behind them, one of them with handcuffs, and the other with his paw on his shock pistol.

Once she was face to face with them, she stopped and saluted. "Commissioner Arks. Chief Barkley," she said with the utmost respect to her superiors.

They both nodded their heads in salutations. Isaac's attention shifted almost immediately to a certain raccoon figure coming up to stand beside Carmelita. Sly's brown eyes observed the two, already recognizing who the badger was from seeing him before, but he had no clue who the coyote was. He thought wryly to himself, that perhaps feigning amnesia was going to be easy if he met up with others he really didn't know.

Isaac's lips twitched ever so slightly at the ends as he said, "it's a pleasure to meet the elusive Sly Cooper at last."

"Likewise," Sly said with a careful cock of his head. He gave the best confused looking stare he could and turned his eyes slightly to Carmelita. This didn't escape the Commissioner's attention, as his eyes flashed with some sort of emotion Sly couldn't pinpoint. Was it amusement?

Carmelita stepped in. "Commissioner, may I have a word with you?"

He shifted his amber gaze to the voluptuous vixen. Her gaze remained steady even when most would quail under Isaac's scrutiny. That was one of the many things he admitted to finding so appealing about Carmelita. She was increasingly stubborn and not afraid to challenge authority figures, but she never stepped over the line that was appropriate. A knowing smile spread his lips. "Of course."

He swept aside in a flurry of his trench coat, followed by the vixen and Chief Barkley. The Commissioner told the officers who had accompanied them to remain where they were and to not arrest Cooper immediately. They gave him a puzzling look, but obeyed without protest.

Once they were out of earshot, Isaac turned to Carmelita, who crossed her arms across her chest.

"There's… a bit of a problem," she began.

"What do you mean?" Barkley interrupted sharply. He had just begun to light another cigar when the vixen's words had frozen his paw on his lit match. He let out a string of curses when the flame seared his finger.

Carmelita sighed and ran a paw through her hair. It was obvious that the vixen was feeling nervous about what she was about to say. "You both know I went to Kaine Island to arrest Sly Cooper." They nodded. "Unfortunately, during the fight that arose on the island, Cooper was hit in the head and now has amnesia. He doesn't remember anything about who he is."

"That is a problem," Isaac said. The pleased expression he had never left his face, and it was starting to unnerve Carmelita. It was almost as though he knew what she had already done and was now going to propose without being told.

She cleared her throat for the next line of her pitch. "And… while we were escaping, I - I mean _he_ - got the idea we were partners at Interpol and that he's a Constable."

Silence met her last statement, until Barkley's voice boomed out. "_What the hell is the meaning of this, Inspector Fox?_" The old badger was literally red in the face from anger and shock. "What were you _thinking_, telling Sly Cooper he's a Constable? Do you have _any_ idea what this will look like on Interpol's part if we took the thief in_?_"

Commissioner Arks cleared his throat suddenly, immediately quelling Barkley's rant. "Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this matter, Barkley," he said, "but I think Inspector Fox has a right to explain herself before you go about demoting or firing her."

He turned to beam at the vixen.

Carmelita squared her shoulders. "Thank you Commissioner. I think throwing a man who has amnesia into jail wouldn't be the right thing to do. He has no idea what he's done previously, and-" She paused here, making a face when she realized what she was going to say. If Sly heard her now (with his memories intact) he would have the stupidest grin on his face. "Cooper has only gone after crooks we would normally go after and has done nothing to hurt fellow citizens."

_And he's saved my life more than once, _she added silently.

"Interesting," Isaac said. He had a thoughtful look on his face and he crossed his hands across his chest as well. His paw lifted upwards and tapped his chin even as he glanced over at Barkley who looked at a loss for words and then looked back to Carmelita. "So, are you saying that Sly Cooper would do more good on our side than bad?"

The vixen appeared stunned. However, she was quick to adapt, and immediately jumped on the Commisioner's words. "Exactly, sir."

He remained quiet again, but Barkley groaned mentally when he saw the gears turning in Isaac's amber eyes. Immediately, Barkley knew exactly what the Commissioner was planning even before knowing the entire situation. Interpol was going to be in an uproar about this, and the badger knew that despite Isaac's ability to tame most fires, this would certainly be one blaze he may not be able to contain. However, Barkley decided that he was going to side with the Commissioner, even if he got a few attacks about this. It did make sense to think that someone who was once a criminal, could certainly benefit the law with all the knowledge he could bring to the table. With proper training as an officer, Sly Cooper might actually make a good cop.

Barkley sighed, and ran a paw across his face. He couldn't believe that he'd just convinced himself this was a good idea. Perhaps Commissioner Arks' abilities to convince almost anybody extended to mind control.

He looked up to find both the Commissioner and Inspector staring at him expectantly. "Alright," he said simply, in a gruff voice.

Isaac grinned. "Then it's decided."

He came forward, and placed a paw on Carmelita's shoulder. If it was possible, she looked even more shocked than Barkley had. The badger was giving Isaac a look of pure incredulousness, but the look in his brown eyes also said he was placing all of his trust in the coyote.

"Inspector Fox, I'll be expecting you to make sure Sly Cooper doesn't toe the line. You'll be his partner, and I'm sure the two of you will do Interpol proud. Don't worry about anything else but keeping him in the dark about his thieving. If anything were to happen that exposes him to it, or his memory comes back, I'm afraid even _I_ won't be able to save him from being thrown in jail. It's only because I believe he'd be a valuable asset to Interpol that I'm willing to take the risk."

Carmelita nodded numbly.

With that said, Isaac turned and walked towards the crowd of mercenaries and Sly. Once he was eye to eye with the raccoon, he extended a paw. Sly looked surprised to see the extended limb, but eventually took it with a wary look in his eyes. The Commissioner grinned.

"Welcome back, Constable Cooper."

* * *

**Well, there you go. I was going to separate this into two chapters, but decided in the end to just stick them together into one giant chapter. Hope you all enjoy, and sorry for any typos and whatnot in there - I tried to get them all. **

**Please feel free to kick me if I'm taking too long to update.**


	3. Easy Mode

Last Edited: (06.09.12)

**Alright, I'm back with more. Not much to say this time around I guess, but sorry for the long wait. Just to reassure some others who may be following my other story: no I haven't abandoned it. **

**The ideas for it aren't coming as quickly as before, so until I can get back the inspiration, I'll probably be working on this one just a bit more. But no worries, it will be done.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 3: Easy Mode

* * *

Racing through shadows, a slim husky with bright blue eyes wearing nothing more than a hoodie and jeans, quickly ducked into the shadows behind a dumpster. Just from a glance, one could see he was rather young, possibly just in his early teens. From the way his eyes were wide, and how his chest heaved, it was obvious he was terrified out of his wits. The smell emanating from the large bin in front of him was not pleasant in the least, but he held his sensitive nose closed, and tried to melt into obscurity.

Two pairs of footsteps echoed in the alleyway, passing right in front of where he was hiding. One pair of the footsteps stopped while the other ran off towards the other side, making the husky's heart begin to race. He hoped beyond hope, that his heartbeat went unheard, as he could only imagine that the fierce drumming against his rib cage was rather obvious. He held his breath, trying to be as silent as possible.

Gripping a 2 by 4 in his paw, he tensed himself to order to strike whoever might check the shadows. Of course, he wasn't entirely sure if he could really attack his chaser, but at this point in time, he was desperate. There was no way he was going to let himself be caught. Silence reigned in the small alleyway, until finally, the person who'd been searching seemed to give up, and darted after the other.

The husky heaved a sigh of relief, but remained where he was in order to make sure they didn't come back. After a full minute of waiting, he stepped tentatively from the shadows and glanced around.

Moonlight filtered into the alley, casting an eerie glow across the narrow passage. Piles of garbage, and some other unmentionables were thrown into stark contrast thanks to the moon, and he could easily see the darkened shadows crawling across the pavement. Wind sighed through the alley, throwing the discarded pieces of garbage about in lazy circles. He remained crouched beside the bin, waiting. The fear in his limbs had the immense effect of grounding him to the spot, but the adrenaline in his veins was speaking otherwise. It was a strange feeling to be so scared not to move, but to also want to dash away into the night.

He took a moment to slip off the backpack across his back, and check to see if the contents were still in proper condition.

Once he was sure it was all intact, he zipped it closed, and swung it across his back again. Paranoia caused him to sweep the grounds again, and found nothing.

_It's now or never._

He dashed from his spot, racing towards a door he could see just on the other end of the alley. He wasn't positive if it would open for him, but at this point in time, the teen was desperate for any means of escape. Once at the door, he turned the knob and found, to his dismay, it was locked.

In frustration, he kicked the door and let out a hushed curse when his toes all cracked from the kick. With tears of pain in his eyes, he glanced about again to see if he could possibly just run out of the alley.

The wind seemed to pick up, and he shivered in the chill air, before deciding to take the plunge and run to the alley's entrance. If he managed to get there, then at the very least he could slip into a crowd, and blend out of existence. That way, the cops would never know it was him. A grin at his brilliant plan graced his young features, and he quickly dashed to the alley's mouth.

Just as he arrived, a loud and commanding feminine voice yelled, "_FREEZE!_"

Light blinded him, and he gasped, putting his arms up to shield his eyes.

_Shit, shit, shit, _the teen cursed, now bound to his spot. There was no escaping now.

Carmelita stepped forward, her shock pistol holding steady on the teen's chest. The bright light atop of the pistol shone directly into the husky's eyes, making him blink furiously to see. Dressed in her usual attire, with the exception of having a long sleeved t-shirt underneath her bomber jacket, she stood in front of the husky, her eyes hard.

"Put your paws up where I can see them," she demanded.

The husky obeyed almost immediately, putting his arms up wildly. The 2 by 4 was still gripped in his paw, but when he saw the literal shot of venom in her eyes, he let it clatter to the ground. Carmelita pulled out a pair of handcuffs, still keeping her gun trained on the boy. She noticed that he looked no older than 16 at the most, but her ever black and white presence of mind told her to arrest the boy, and take him back to Interpol. "Come on kid, turn around."

Gulping, the husky did as he was told, and offered his wrists to her. She was just about to slap a pair of handcuffs on, when a voice stopped her.

"Inspector, don't you think it's a bit harsh to arrest a kid?"

"Now's not the time for you to question me, Constable," she snapped in irritation. She glared back at the Constable in question, a laid back looking raccoon.

Sly grinned at her venomous tone, and quickly said, "your words wound me, Inspector. But seriously, it's a bit harsh to arrest a kid. I mean look at him, he's shaking in his sneakers!"

To emphasize his point, Sly pointed at the kid with the Interpol issued baton he'd received when accepted as a Constable. It was no where near what his cane used to be, but Sly was accustomed to hand held weapons. The first time they'd put a shock pistol in his paws, the raccoon had somehow managed to nearly shoot his foot off. With the safety on. Once that had happened, his shock pistol was taken away until he could be properly 'retrained', and he was given a baton. It wasn't as effective as a shock projectile, but Sly was confident in his skills to knock out anybody with it. That, and the baton itself could certainly pack a punch, as it had its own ability to shock offenders.

The husky looked ready to jump out of his fur, and he glanced nervously at the baton.

Sly gave him a comforting smile, before turning back to Carmelita. "See?"

"He was running from a law," Carmelita shook her head in annoyance. She switched her glare over to Sly. "Just because you think he's too young, doesn't mean he should be exempt from it. What if he starts to cause even bigger trouble?"

Sly sighed, and came forward to place a paw on Carmelita's shoulder. To his amazement, she didn't shake him off like she usually would, which was a sign he could continue in a relatively calm manner.

"Look, how about we just ask him what's going on, and then we'll take action. Okay?" Sly knew that doing this was pushing it, but he kept his gaze insistent on her. Eventually, she looked away, and gave a snort of derision, before lowering her pistol. Sly grinned, knowing he'd won.

"Alright kid," he said, turning to the shaking husky. "How about you explain to me why you saw it fit to run when we asked you a few questions. Tell the truth, or we'll be forced to take extreme measures." He shook the baton in his paw, showing that he was serious, but the wink he gave ruined the image.

Carmelita rolled her eyes in exasperation. Even with amnesia, he was still the same old Sly Cooper.

"I-I was just picking up something f-for my friends," the teen stammered fearfully. Even with Sly's wink, the husky eyed the baton with fearfulness. For all he knew, Sly was more than willing to use it.

"'Something', huh?" Sly repeated with a thoughtful look. "That 'something' wouldn't happen to be in your backpack, would it?"

Shaking in fear, the husky shook his head vigorously.

This earned a frown from Sly. "Hey now, I hope you're not lying to me. I'll give you one more chance. _Is that 'something' in your backpack_, yes or no?"

Finally, the teen caved, and he nodded sullenly. Despite the efforts he had made to escape the cops, he was still a teen and just as afraid as any would be in the face of the law. The only reason he'd run was due to fear of being in trouble, and his records being smeared with this run-in. Or even worse, being thrown into jail, which the husky could fondly remember he was being threatened with by the vixen. He quietly slid the backpack off, and handed it to Sly, who took it. Slowly unzipping the bag, Sly 's eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw the darkened outlines of its contents.

He dug into his pocket, and extracted a flashlight, and shone it towards the inside. The light reflected off a couple of glass bottles, with labels that could only belong to…

"Beer, huh?" Sly raised an eyebrow. "How old are you kid?"

The husky looked shamefully to the ground. "15..."

"So a year below the legal age, huh? Couldn't wait to get some of this on your tongue?" Sly chuckled. He winced when he felt an elbow in the small of his back and he looked back to see Carmelita giving him a hard stare. It was obvious by the way she looked, that she was still disapproving of the entire thing. Sly cleared his throat. "Well, let's see. That constitutes a fine, you know. And a call to your parents. What's your name?"

Knowing that it was useless to argue, the husky replied dejectedly, "James Samuelson…"

"Alright James," Sly nodded, "we'll be confiscating this beer, and we'll be giving your parents a call and that fine. Unfortunately, I don't think your parents will be very happy to get a call so late in the night, but maybe that'll teach you not to go out and buy beer when you're underage."

Then Sly snapped his fingers together. "That reminds me. Just how did you manage it, huh? Got a fake ID?"

James silently slid his wallet from his back pocket, and pulled out a glossy card and handed it over. Sly took it, and looked it over, and whistled lowly. "Man, this is a good make. Looks authentic, don't you think Inspector?"

He looked over his shoulder at the shorter vixen, wagging the ID card in paw, and saw himself staring into a glare so filled with fury it could melt ice.

"Constable…" she began in a threatening tone.

Sly cleared his throat. "Anyway, get out of here, James. I'll be looking forward to seeing you around _without_ illegally bought beer, you hear?"

The kid nodded, took a moment to look at them both, before dodging past them into the lit streets behind. Sly zipped the bag in his hands shut, and slung the backpack on. Before he could say a word, he felt Carmelita's paw on his arm and she spun him around.

"What the hell were you thinking, Cooper?" she hissed. Despite the fact that she was now working with him, Sly knew that Carmelita had not changed in the slightest when it came to her law abiding rules. It was rather ironic, considering that she was now running around Paris with a former thief in tow, and it was all because of her.

"Look Inspector," he said in the smoothest tone he could, "the kid was only 15. You were going to throw him in jail just because he bought some beer? Seems pretty harsh. Besides, I think you scared him sober with your threats."

He chuckled, only to be stopped when Carmelita jabbed a finger into his chest.

"You know, sometimes your views are really skewed," she muttered. The heat in her eyes was now beginning to vanish, but she still looked at him distastefully. There was a small voice in the back her mind, yelling that he was like this because he was starting to remember his own criminal background, but she forced it down furiously.

Sly took a moment to think, seemingly ignoring her sudden silence.

"Where my views always like that?" he asked innocently.

The effect was immediate. Carmelita froze in place, and her jaw dropped open. They stood like that, staring into each others eyes for a full minute, before the vixen snapped her jaw shut, and said, "yes."

_Could have been a bit faster to answer but…_

The raccoon nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. He thought it was rather fun to try and catch Carmelita off guard when he could. Although there were moments where he wanted to shake his head and laugh at how weak Carmelita was when it came to lying, he still went ahead and gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, it wasn't easy lying; especially for one who had never done anything against the law in their life before. Sure, Carmelita was getting better at it as time went on, but whenever Sly happened to catch her off guard - like right now - it was like watching a young kit learning to walk for the first time. If she wasn't careful, Sly - if he really had amnesia - would probably start piecing together the puzzle and know something was off about the whole situation. Which would in turn cause everything to fall apart.

Not that he was going out of his way to let Carmelita know about his faked amnesia.

Not now anyway.

"I see," was all he said.

Silence came over the two, until Carmelita cleared her throat. "I think it's about time we get back to headquarters. Our shift is probably over by now."

"Great, that means I can crack open one of these beers, and take a much needed break," he joked, while dodging a wild swipe from his partner.

* * *

Sly sighed loudly as he tossed his keys onto the kitchen table to his right. He yawned, and stretched until his fingers nearly touched the ceiling and then flopped onto his newly purchased couch. The cushions themselves were heavenly, and Sly found himself nearly sinking into them. He was a little hungry, but he made no move to shift position on the couch. Lounging there with his arms behind his head, and his legs half on, half off, one wouldn't think that he was feeling worried and slightly stressed.

True to his nature, Sly hardly ever let show that he was feeling under the weather, or just not as happy-go-lucky as usual. The only times he would do so, were if he were alone, or if one of his friends finally managed to get through his defensives. Speaking of which…

He wondered silently to himself, while staring hard at the ceiling, what Bentley and Murray were doing. It'd only been about 2 weeks since he'd first joined Interpol, and that entire time, he'd caught no wind of his gang. Even using Interpol's resources showed no evidence to the turtle or hippo's location; not that Sly was ever good at getting information like Bentley, so he always chalked it up to his horrible information gathering skills. Either they were keeping on a low profile - which was probably the safest route - or something had happened to them. Growling, he threw that thought of mind, and sat up.

His stomach decided then to announce its presence, and he gave into the cries and walked to the kitchen.

The apartment he was now living in was in an old building with cracks on the bricks, and a balcony Sly _swore _would fall apart as soon as he stepped on it; he had yet to dare and actually venture onto it. It was a rather small apartment, with a tiny bathroom that barely fit a shower, toilet and sink, and another small room for a bed to be squeezed into. The main room of the apartment was open concept, where a small table had been set up with two chairs, and a couch that Sly had bought himself with his first honest paycheck. The floors were made of laminate wood, something Sly enjoyed as he wasn't very much of a fan of carpet, and the walls themselves were painted in slate gray. Honestly, it made the raccoon think of a jail cell, and he laughed silently to himself. It wasn't much, but Sly was used to small living quarters, and owning only a few meager items. If anything, the new bed he had was a luxury, as he'd never had such a comfortable mattress before. Before, Sly and his friends would be pulling discarded mattresses, and couches off the streets to furnish their own hideout.

It might come as a wonder to most people as to why the thieves didn't use their money to buy furniture, but they preferred to use it for things that were more important. Like food, fixing up the van, or using it to buy supplies.

A lump formed in his throat when he thought of his friends again, and he pushed the thoughts away again.

As much as he missed them, Sly knew that it would be rather impossible to go and look for them now, especially with Carmelita breathing down his neck, and the raccoon knew that there were people watching him.

Even now, he opened the blinds to the large window leading to the balcony, and spotted a parked car in front of the building. This idea would have worked if Sly really had amnesia, or if any other normal person had looked out, but Sly knew better. With his keen eyesight, he was able to spot a figure moving about in the seat of a dark blue car parked in front of the building, and looking up towards the window the raccoon was standing in. He smirked.

Although he was being trusted as a Constable, Sly knew that the higher ups in Interpol would want to keep an eye on him, just in case he was lying. But even with that doubt, Sly wondered to himself why Commissioner Arks was going to such lengths to make sure Sly believed himself to be a cop. To actually go as far as to rent the raccoon this apartment, give him new clothes, and a whole new identity was rather shocking.

Sly stood there for a moment, thinking.

Commissioner Arks had also gone to many lengths to do what he had to, so that Sly could be accepted into Interpol. The coyote - much to Sly's amazement - was able to easily dissuade any doubts, and gloss over any fights that broke out. As Sly found himself being pulled deeper into the workings of Interpol, he found himself being more and more impressed by the Commissioner. The coyote was certainly a man worthy of his title, and sometimes Sly found himself wondering how, with such an authoritative figure at the helm of the ship, he hadn't been caught during his thieving days. Considering how wide the net Interpol cast in order to catch criminals, it was a real dilemma that got Sly thinking.

Only one conclusion rose in the raccoon's mind, and that was, perhaps the Commissioner didn't really want to catch Sly in the first place.

But that was ridiculous, Sly thought to himself. To think that the leader of Interpol would prevent the district from finding a simple raccoon thief was stupid. Sly chose to simply chalk it up to Bentley's amazing ability to make the perfect plans, and Murray's immense strength and driving skills.

Oh, there was that lump again.

Sly shook his head free of the scurrying thoughts, and pulled out various items to make a sandwich. As he stood there, going through the motions, he once again found himself drifting. Not just to thoughts of his friends, but to also something that stuck out in Sly's mind during the first few days at Interpol.

* * *

**1 week ago…**

"_Here's your standard issued shock pistol, and badge back."_

_The coyote slid said two items across his desk and sat back in the chair he was currently occupying._

_Sitting in the rather large office of the Commissioner, Sly could honestly say he felt uneasy. He was currently seated in front of an oak desk, clean of any sort of dust and paper with the coyote facing him. There were only a few personal effects decorating the office, as it seemed like Commissioner Arks preferred to keep his personal and professional work separated. It wasn't exactly the fanciest room or office Sly had been in, but he could tell that it perfectly showed off the power Commissioner Arks had. Compared to the other officers' offices, this was certainly the epitome of authority._

_Sly took the items cautiously, trying to subtly see if the Commissioner was doing anything, or if this was a trap. The coyote remained where he was seated, relaxed, while his face was blank of any emotion with the exception of a slight tug on his lips. The raccoon found it kind of odd how the Commissioner always seemed to have that little smile on his face, even in the most tense of situations. Without being able to see any sort of deception, Sly nabbed the items, and held them carefully in his paws._

_He glanced down at the badge, and felt like it was much heavier than it should be. The pistol also seemed much heavier than it should be, but he holstered it anyway, knowing full well he wouldn't be using it. __For a moment, he wondered if this was their actual weight, or if he was simply imagining it. __Taking a moment to clip the badge to his chest, he suddenly found his paws shaking._

_This was it._

_There'd be no turning back once that badge was clipped to his chest. _

_Even with so many doubts racing in his mind, he finally managed to get the gold plated badge on, and then let his paws fall to his knees. This was obviously a test on the Commissioner's behalf, as Sly could feel the coyote's amber eyes on him._

_While still feeling the hard gaze on him, Sly glanced down at the badge again, and saw himself staring at the words, '_Constable Cooper_'. It was quite a sight to behold, but the raccoon found himself shrugging off the doubt. He'd already decided that this was all going to be a fun endeavor, even if he was constantly going to have to look over his shoulder to make sure he didn't make any mistakes._

_It was almost like a game._

_He hid a grin from the Commissioner, who was still watching him. Sly then cleared his throat. "So uhh… I guess from here on out, I'll be working with Carme - I mean - Inspector Fox."_

_Commissioner Arks smiled. "Of course. It's just like how it was before you both went to Kaine Island. Do you happen to remember what you were going there for?" _

"_No," Sly shook his head. "Not really anyway. I just remember someone named Dr. N or something."_

"_I see," the coyote murmured. He crossed his paws against his lap, and gave Sly a roaming glance. It made the raccoon shiver slightly, as it felt like he was being examined under a microscope. The Commissioner certainly had a way to induce those feelings in anyone he chose, and to be frank, it was starting to creep Sly out. "Well, as the doctors have said, there is the possibility you'll get your memories back, but for now we can't say for sure. I would suggest you ask Inspector Fox, or any of the other officers, questions if you're lost."_

"_Right," Sly agreed. He went to stand up when he was stopped in his tracks by the Commissioner again._

"_Also, Constable. I would suggest you have some caution around some of the other officers."_

_When Sly gave Commissioner Arks a questioning look, the coyote grinned widely. His glasses glinted in the sunlight pouring into the room, so that his eyes were hidden from view, another thing that Sly found rather disconcerting. _

"_Just a warning, Cooper."_

* * *

Sly blinked when he found himself smearing mayonnaise over his paw. Cursing at his own stupidity, he quickly wiped the condiment away, and shook his head.

That Commissioner really was an odd one.

From the way he seemed to be looking right into your very soul, or to the way he always seemed so calm, it was something that could strike either fear or admiration in people. For Sly, it was a strange mix of both. On one paw, he could admire the way the Commissioner always seemed like he was in command, and on the other paw he felt like distancing himself from the man was the best idea he'd ever had.

Unfortunately, given the situation, Sly could look forward to many meetings with Commissioner Arks. Which would make avoiding the coyote next to impossible.

Regardless though, Sly did find himself coasting along rather nicely. He now had a decent apartment, an actual honest job (which he had to admit, was rather difficult to fall into routine with), and a beautiful partner. He sincerely hoped that since he'd given up everything in his life just to be with Carmelita, that she wouldn't turn around and rip his heart out.

_Although I doubt that, _he grinned. _It _is_ because of her that I'm now a cop. Constable Cooper… has a nice ring to it._

Just as he had finished his sandwich, and was putting away the used utensils, there was a knock at the door.

Sly froze in the crouch he was in while putting the mayonnaise back, and stared at the door, a bit apprehensive. There was no way it'd be Carmelita, considering she hadn't been back to his apartment since he'd first moved in. It couldn't be the officers outside his building, as they were clearly being incognito, and if Sly was correct in his thinking, they weren't supposed to interact with him. Sly also didn't have any friends just yet - barring Bentley and Murray, but it was impossible they'd be here - so the only thing he could think of, was this might be a stranger.

Possibly even a dangerous one.

Ever the cautious type of man - which came naturally to him since he'd lived his entire on the run - he grabbed the baton he'd left on the table.

Sly silently made his way to the door, and peered through the keyhole, and saw nothing. He sucked on his teeth, and figured it must just be a kid playing a prank on him. Sighing in annoyance at his paranoia, he set his baton aside to lean it beside the door and turned to eat his late snack, when there was another knock at the door. He spun around, and stared at the door again.

_Shit._

All in one fluid motion, Sly grabbed the baton again, unlocked the door, and flung it open, preparing himself for a fight if need be.

What he saw had him dropping the baton from slack fingers, and staring in stunned silence at what was lying on the mat in front of his apartment.

* * *

**Cliffhanger?**

**Anyway, I'm trying my best to make these chapters fairly long, just to make up for my - sometimes - long wait times between chapters. Again, please excuse any typos you might encounter. I really try my best to get those out of the way before I upload, but unfortunately, some of the buggers escape my attention.**

**Hope it's all to your liking, and let me know what you all think!**


	4. Turtling

****Last Edited: (06.17.12)

**And we're back with more… Not much to say this time around, I guess. Just, I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Also, it should be noted, that from here on out, the chapter titles will probably get a bit strange. **

**I just hope the 'theme' I'm trying to go for will be noticed. If not, it's cool.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 4: Turtling

* * *

The baton hitting the ground fell on deaf ears, as Sly stared down at the object lying on the welcome mat just outside his apartment.

Immediately, he stuck his head out, and peered down both ends of the hallway. Nothing stirred, and his ears caught no noise, but he stayed where he was just to be sure. Once he was absolutely sure no one was around, he kneeled down and plucked the object from the mat.

In his paw lay one of Bentley's grapple cams, and Sly could honestly say he felt, surprise, guilt, anger, and glee wash over him all at the same time. The grapple cam, something that Bentley had invented not too long ago to aide them in the Cooper Vault job, was small, and rolled around slightly in Sly's paw. Feather light, and silent, the grapple cam had saved Sly's tail more times then he would like to admit.

He closed the door to his apartment, and walked over to his couch to place the small invention on his table. When he sat down, he stared at it, unsure if he should fiddle around with it or not.

Sighing, he reached forward, and clicked the small button that he knew activated a microphone, and listened to what the message might say.

"_Sly. I know we haven't heard from one another in about 2 weeks now, but I think it's time we met up anyway. Agent Heartthrob and I will be in the area in 3 days, and we're hopeful that you'll meet up with us… We may not know the true intention of your actions back at the vault, but I trust you that it was for a good cause. We'll be waiting to meet up with you at Agent Deep Six's club - which I'm sure you'll know - around 9 PM. If you don't show up… The rest of us understand, and we won't stop you from living however you want. Wizard, ending transmission."_

A click and some static ended the transmission, after which, Sly found himself staring at a knot in the wood on the table. Not moving from his position, he wasn't sure how long he sat there in silence for, but his thoughts were screaming.

Should he go and meet with Bentley and Penelope? He felt awful for not giving them prior notice to leaving so suddenly, with the exception of leaving his cane, and calling card at the site of his inheritance. The money should have easily made the entire gang rich, and comfortable in new lives, but Sly knew that wasn't enough to excuse not saying a single word to his brothers, and comrades.

Sighing as he ran a paw through his hair, he came to the difficult conclusion to go meet them, even if it would be toeing the line. It would be an easy task avoiding the supposed guards outside his apartment, but the problem was, if he happened to be seen speaking with the turtle and mouse, the jig would be up. There'd be no way he could bluff his way out of that, even with someone like the Commissioner who was backing him up with a lot more than thought possible.

If just one person happened to recognize him outside, then everything would be blown apart.

All of Sly's lies would be exposed, and he'd be thrown in jail before he could say 'crap'. He may be able to escape, but the thought of breaking Carmelita's heart was nauseating. Could he really go and see his friends, at the risk of ending everything with the woman he loved?

It was a hard choice, and Sly wasn't sure if he was making the right one.

But in the end, the raccoon knew that not meeting his friends would be like stabbing them in the back. And as much as it pained him to think that if he were caught everything would fall apart with Carmelita, Sly's honor told him otherwise. He, at least, had to explain himself to them.

No longer hungry, Sly swept the grapple cam away, and tossed it into a cabinet in his kitchen, and put the sandwich he'd just made in the fridge. He had 3 days until he'd be meeting up with Bentley and Penelope, but he thought to himself, _what about Murray?_

Indeed, it was odd that the hippo wasn't once mentioned in the transmission, and Sly panicked slightly when he thought that maybe something had happened to his large friend. But he shook the thoughts away, and lay back down on his couch to ponder.

These next 3 days were going to be excruciating for Sly. He knew that he'd have to carefully plan how he was going to trick those cops outside his apartment right now, and avoid being seen outside or anywhere near the club. That was usually more Bentley's forte, but Sly knew he couldn't really go out there and contact them again like usual.

He eventually spent most of the night flipping back and forth on his couch, thinking hard on what to do, and trying to convince himself not to back out on his decision. Finally, when it was near 4 AM, Sly fell asleep on the couch, only to fall into restless dreams where he hoped that Bentley and Penelope weren't going to meet up with him only so they could tell Sly that he was hated by his own gang, and to never show his face around them again.

* * *

**3 days later…**

A yawn escaped from the raccoon's muzzle as he poured himself a cup of coffee in the break room at Interpol, and deftly chugged most of the lukewarm liquid down. It was around 9 AM, and far too early for Sly's tastes. He was still accustomed to sleeping in the day and waking up at night, which was already past the norm of regular people. Coupled with his nocturnal instincts, Sly could easily find himself becoming dependant on the coffee. He figured that eventually he'd fall into the routine of waking up normally, so he wasn't too concerned at the moment, but it sure was a pain in the tail now.

"Mornin' Cooper," came a voice from behind.

Knowing exactly who it was, Sly answered without turning, "morning Inspector. You're here bright and early."

Liam Nathans was a tall and rather muscular panther, with bright green eyes that held back years of experience. He was a rank higher than Sly on the totem pole, and older, but the chances that they got to speak with one another had proved to find them having a few things in common. Perhaps they weren't as tight as some of the other officers, but the former thief already knew enough to call Liam his friend. Coupled with the fact, the two liked to poke fun at one another, proved that they were going to be good friends in the long run. As much as it pained him to think this, Sly was finding himself comparing Liam to Bentley and Murray, and he wondered if perhaps he was trying to fill a void in his heart from the loss of contact with his brothers.

The panther grinned, and grabbed a cup of coffee himself. "Of course. Can't be an officer without getting up early. Are those doughnuts I see?" One of his paws pointed over to a white box settled on the table that another officer had probably brought in. His green eyes held a certain amount of greed that had Sly chuckling.

"I thought doughnuts were a stereotype," Sly grinned, catching the affronted look on Liam's face.

"Just because I like doughnuts doesn't make me a pig, you know," Liam rolled his eyes, but also found himself chuckling.

Of course, he knew all about Sly and his past life as a thief, but the panther couldn't help but find himself enjoying Sly's company. The former thief wasn't anything like the media made him out to be. He was neither cunning, evil, and downright manipulative as he'd once thought himself. Sly was on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. The raccoon was a pretty funny guy, and easy to get along with, and Liam knew that he couldn't bring himself to despise Sly for being a thief before.

The unfortunate thing was, it couldn't be said for everyone else in the precinct. There were quite a few who went out of their way to spit their dislike at the raccoon, with one particular man at the helm of the ship. Liam shook it off, and came back to the conversation at hand, just in time to catch what Sly was saying.

"I think you're more than half way there, pal," Sly shot right back with a wink, leaving Liam thinking for a moment before he understood what Sly was getting at.

"I feel offended by that," Liam argued back. He poured himself a mug of coffee as well, and frowned at the liquid. Then he glanced down at himself, and noticed that he was starting to get a bit of a gut; he'd have to go to the gym again soon. "Just because you can eat whatever you want and not gain a pound, doesn't mean you can make fun of me, Cooper."

Sly laughed, and tossed his empty cup in the trash. "It's not making fun of, when it's the truth."

He left Liam cursing and choking on his coffee, and just as Sly walked outside, his ears barely caught Liam bellowing from the break room, "damn it Cooper, this was my best shirt!"

Chuckling, Sly walked himself up a flight of stairs towards where his office with Carmelita was. The two shared an office now, which Sly knew it was so Carmelita could keep on an eye on him, but officially on paper, it was because they were partners. True to her schedule, the vixen was already seated at her desk and working on paperwork.

"Morning, Inspector," Sly called as he walked in and shrugged his coat off. She barely nodded at him, so concentrated she was on her work. He only grinned and seated himself as well.

The office they were both now seated in, was in fact Carmelita's old office, with a few precautions taken so that Sly wouldn't happen to recognize the room when he walked in. The once eggshell white walls were now painted in taupe, and the large corkboard Carmelita had kept full of Sly's pictures and escapades around the world, was now gone. Two desks had been squeezed in, and the vault that had been pushed against one of the walls was also gone. Along with a plaque proclaiming a desk as _Constable Cooper's_, and a potted plant off to the side, no one would ever know that anything proclaiming Constable Cooper as a Master Thief had once taken residence in the office.

After working on some paperwork, and feeling almost suffocated by the silence, Sly asked, "do you think we'll have another patrol shift this evening?"

Carmelita paused in her writing, and fixed Sly with a puzzled look. "We shouldn't, no. Why do you ask?"

_Crap._

He cleared his throat awkwardly, knowing that he just inadvertently called attention to his actions for later that night. After all, this was finally the night that he was going to go and meet up with Bentley and Penelope, and so far he hadn't shown any signs of anything being out of the norm.

Until now that is.

"I was just wondering," Sly quickly smoothed over his question. "I'm running out of groceries, and tonight might be the only time I can go and get some stuff I need."

Yes, the lie wasn't exactly as good as Sly would have liked it, but Carmelita seemed to accept it, and continue on her paperwork.

_Another bullet dodged_. Sly let out a soft breath he didn't know he'd been holding in, and went back to work. If he wasn't careful, he'd probably _would_ let the cat out of the bag much sooner then he would like. The only way he was ever going to let Carmelita know anything about his feigning amnesia, was if he was forced to, or whenever he happened to propose to her. That very prospect had Sly flushing in embarrassment under his fur, as he suddenly imagined getting down on knee, and taking the vixen's paw in his own. However, he also felt himself getting giddy at the idea.

He shook the thoughts from his head, and tried to concentrate on his paperwork.

Silence came over the two of them once more, and Sly soon found himself counting down the minutes to when he could finally escape to his apartment, and sneak out again to meet up with his friends.

_It'll be great to finally see them again._

* * *

**Later that night...**

Sly paused beside a fountain, just across the street from the brightly lit club that had once been the base of Dimitri's counterfeiting organization. The once proud peacock sign that had signaled to all that this was the place to party, had been replaced with a much simpler sign, proclaiming the name as, '_La Rainure_'. It was certainly much easier on the eyes, and Sly found himself mesmerized by it's simplicity. However, he shook himself awake again, and began the walk towards it.

He tugged a hat he was wearing down further, so that his eyes were shadowed, and lifted the collar of his coat up. Glances around told him that not many people were about, with the exception of the few stragglers walking by, and a line waiting to get into the club. A sigh escaped him, and wondered if he'd have to wait outside as well, until a familiar voice called out, "look who's back to make the dance floor groove with his greasy sweet moves! Cracker Box, my bro!"

Sly grinned, knowing exactly who it was, as no one else called him that. "Dimitri! Nice to see you taking the night life by storm again."

The marine iguana sauntered up to Sly, looking as nonchalant as usual. Dimitri wore a rather extravagant white zebra print suit, with a bedazzled pink shirt (which Sly found himself staring at with an open mouth), and a polished gold belt. His shoes were a shocking neon green, almost glowing in the dim lighting. Only Dimitri would be able to pull off something that would make eyes water, and make the fashion police faint from how gaudy it was. The club owner seemed to notice Sly's appalled looks, and misinterpreted it as admiration.

"You dig my threads? Green with envy, Raccoonus Doodus?" he proclaimed, throwing his hands about. Rings atop his fingers glittered in the lights, and Sly chuckled.

"I see my inheritance got you some nice duds, Dimitri. But as much as I'd love to discuss your - um - _careful_ taste in clothing, I'm here to meet the Wizard and Agent Heartthrob. Do you think you can lead me to them?"

"Sure thing, bro! Do you know who you're beaming to? Follow my moves, and we'll be hooking up with the brains, and cute mousey babe in a snap!"

Sly followed Dimitri's tail into the club, catching a few disgruntled looks from the people waiting outside. He was quickly led through a dizzying array of flashing lights to the interior of the club, where booming speakers played music Sly didn't recognize. The music made it rather impossible to strike up any conversations, but considering everyone there was only dancing, and grinding up to one another, Sly knew it wasn't a problem. The club was just as flashy as Dimitri was, with a disco inspired dance floor, where the tiles flashed brightly beneath shuffling feet. Towards the walls were tables, with booths and various occupants already seated and drinking, along with a few getting to know each other _very_ well. The raccoon flushed slightly to see it, but looked away and continued to follow Dimitri through the club. Eventually they were climbing up steps towards where private booths were so that anyone could go in and have conversations or just get away from all the lights and pulsing music.

There were at least a dozen of these private booths, some occupied, and others not. Dimly lit with just a hanging lamp inside, curtains could be pulled across the booth to let the people have some privacy, and Sly wondered to himself if perhaps there was a reason for it. He didn't ask Dimitri of course, because he knew the iguana would be more then willing to describe in horrible detail just what went on behind those closed curtains.

"The bim and cat are inside here, bro," Dimitri waved his hand towards a booth where two distinctive figures were seated at. "I'll leave you bros to spill, while I check out those girlies over there giving me the ol' up-and-down."

Sly thanked Dimitri as the iguana left to talk the group of women up, and then slid himself into the booth, grinning.

Bentley blinked, looking somewhat surprised to see the raccoon. He was currently seated in the booth, his wheelchair pushed right beside him. Dressed in normal clothing consisting of a button up shirt, khakis, and that familiar red bowtie on his neck, one could say the turtle looked completely out of place in a club like this. Penelope looked just as underdressed herself, with a white sweater and jeans, but perhaps better at home than her boyfriend. Both of their eyes were wide with surprise behind their glasses. The two had drinks in front of them, and another one set off to the side that they'd ordered for Sly as well.

"Sly! I-I didn't think you'd be here so soon." Bentley stammered, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"What, you think I'd leave my friends waiting? So, what's up?" Sly chuckled. He settled himself in the booth, and leaned forward to pull the curtains shut. Almost immediately, the booming music muffled itself.

"It's good to see you're okay!" Penelope grinned. "We really missed you, Sly!"

She slid around the booth so that she could give Sly a hug. Once they separated, Bentley reached over to a pack he usually kept on his wheelchair, making Sly raise an eyebrow at the fact he hadn't gotten a proper hello from his friend.

"Sorry Sly, but I want to get this out of the way before we discuss anything else," Bentley explained. The turtle extracted what looked like a card, and handed it over to Sly, who took it.

"This is a bank card," Sly said, his eyebrows rising even further. Indeed it was, and he wondered why Bentley was giving him such a thing. "You know, my birthday isn't for another month, but hey, I'm not going to stop you if you want to give me stuff now."

"Let's be serious here," Bentley shook his head and pushed his glasses up. "On that card is your take of the Vault job earnings. All of us - Murray, Panda King, Dimitri, myself and Penelope - took a share of it, and we figured it's only fair you get a share. It _is _your family's vault. That card will give you access to a special bank account we set up."

The raccoon certainly hadn't expected this. He flipped the card over, saw the name imprinted on it, and started to laugh uncontrollably. Seeing Sly lose control like this, had Bentley frowning, and crossing his arms across his chest.

"What's so funny?" he demanded, although he had a feeling he knew the reason why.

"T-the name!" Sly choked past his laughter. "_Cornelius Gooderham? Really?_" He was nearly doubling over now, and banging on the table, because he was cracking up so loudly. It'd come a real surprise to them if no one outside the booth could hear Sly's laughter.

Penelope nudged her boyfriend in the ribs, also holding back a giggle. "I told you that name was ridiculous."

Embarrassment made Bentley blush, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. He felt it only appropriate to defend his name choice. "No one's going to connect the once famous Sly Cooper with that name, you know."

Eventually, Sly's snickering calmed, and he wiped away tears of mirth. "O-okay I get it. Sorry. Thanks for that though, you really made me feel much calmer about this meet up."

As he reached a paw to nab the drink Penelope had pushed towards him, one of Bentley's eyebrows rose in question. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean. It was so unexpected. It's been a while since we've seen each other, and considering my situation… Actually, now that I think about, how'd you find me?" Sly was determined to find out as much as he could from the two now that he had them in front of him. "And where's Murray and the others? I thought they'd be with you guys."

"Whoa, calm down with the questions," Bentley put a hand up. "First off, we were all really concerned when all we found from you was your cane and a calling card on Kaine Island. We at least expected a note, but couldn't find one."

Sly felt like every one of Bentley's words were a stab of guilt in his gut. "Yeah… I'm sorry about that. I didn't really have the means or the time to write you guys a note or anything."

"Don't worry about it," Penelope interjected with a smile. She swept her bangs from her eyes before continuing. "After we found your cane, we all took what we could of the treasure - which wasn't much. There's still at least a few million left on the island. Once we landed in Paris, Panda King went back to his daughter, and Dimitri took off. We didn't even know he was in Paris until we stumbled upon his club. Murray and the Guru are continuing their training as well."

Nodding, Sly looked thoughtful. "Sounds good to me… Now how'd you guys find me?"

"We happened to be shopping at a store, when Bentley saw you out the window," Penelope continued. "We wanted to contact you right then and there, but hesitated because we saw that you weren't exactly… alone."

Sly thought back for a moment, and realized just who they'd seen him with. That'd been the day when he and Carmelita had gone to get a few items to help Sly furnish his apartment. "You mean Carmelita."

"Exactly," Bentley jumped in now. "You can imagine our surprise to see you walking around in broad daylight with Inspector Fox! We both decided that it would be best to keep our distance, but we followed you two until you went back to your apartment. Then it was the easy task of recording a message for you and sending it."

"Fair enough," Sly nodded. "So, was this the only reason you wanted to meet up?" He indicated to the card in his paw, that he knew he'd have to hide from Carmelita and others, lest they find out about this meeting. A voice inside told him that this wasn't the case, as Bentley suddenly looked somber.

"Well, no. We also wanted to discuss a few things. Such as, what happened to you after the Vault job. And why you didn't contact us…" Bentley's voice trailed off here, leaving a thick silence over their heads that could be cut with a knife. The turtle hadn't said a word to say he was hurt, but just from the look on his face and tone of his voice, Sly knew that Bentley was incredibly distressed about being left in the dust like that. If Murray were there as well, Sly could only imagine the puppy dog eyes he'd be getting from the hippo.

Immediately, another pang of guilt struck Sly in his heart, and he sighed heavily, knowing that this had to be the main reason they'd called him out so unexpectedly.

"Look pal…" Sly started hesitantly. He couldn't look Bentley nor Penelope in the eye, and he swallowed a large lump in his throat. He could feel their eyes boring into him, and he nearly shrunk into his seat. "I-I'm sorry I didn't explain to you guys about everything that happened. Especially the Carmelita thing. But I didn't have much of a choice, and well… I kind of had to take the chance when I could. It was either finally be with Carmelita like I've always wanted, or walk away from it and never know what could have happened between us."

After his somewhat emotional explanation, Sly's eyebrows rose to dangerous heights when he caught sight of Penelope rolling her eyes. "Well of course, Sly. We weren't going to force you to choose between the gang and the woman you love. All of us were well and prepared for anything. And given the history, and… certain actions you two have shared, it was a given."

Sly's jaw had fallen open at the mouse's words, but he quickly recovered and snapped it shut. "Well… I guess I look stupid now, huh?"

"Not going to argue that one," Bentley piped up. The raccoon couldn't help but chortle at his friend's joke and shook his head.

"Alright, alright," he sighed. "So now that I've thoroughly embarrassed myself… I guess I should say it again. I'm sorry for not contacting you straight away. It's kind of hard to shake off the cops, and Carmelita. They're constantly breathing down my neck to make sure I'm not trying to steal on the side."

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay," Bentley smiled. Although he looked like he had forgiven Sly, he didn't look entirely satisfied with Sly's answer. He paused to take a sip of his drink before continuing with, "and as far as I can tell, you're doing pretty well. How'd you manage to convince Inspector Fox not to arrest you? I expect that infamous 'Cooper Charm', as you call it, came into play, hmm?"

Sly cleared his throat awkwardly. "Not exactly. She thinks I have amnesia."

The turtle had just been taking another sip of his drink, when Sly's words cause him to spit it out, and start coughing and spluttering. After a few well aimed pats on his shell, and much drying off, Bentley stammered, "w-what do you mean _amnesia?_"

The raccoon ginned. "I thought you were smarter then that, Bent."

"Sly, I swear…"

"Sorry, sorry," Sly said sheepishly, while putting his paws up in surrender. "Well to keep it short, I took another hit to the head while in the vault, and it scrambled my brains for a bit. I really did have amnesia, but when I saw a portrait of my dad again, it all came back. I couldn't really go against my word, and tell Carmelita… so now I'm a cop at Interpol. They all think I have amnesia, actually."

"A _cop?_" Penelope frowned, her large brown eyes narrowing slightly. She looked extremely worried, and rightly so, as no one besides Sly would take such a huge jump into unknown territory. As much as she trusted Sly's instincts, the mouse couldn't help but fret over his decisions. "That's a big risk, Sly. What if they find out you're faking amnesia? Heck, what if someone from Interpol sees you talking to us right now!"

"One; no one's going to find out, because I have the head honcho at Interpol backing me up. And two; remember, we're in one of Dimitri's private booths in his club. No officers are going to see us here," Sly assured.

However, Bentley didn't look convinced. "As good as that plan _might_ sound, eventually they're going to find out. What'll you do then?"

"You worry too much, Bentley," Sly snorted. He downed the last of his drink before answering. "I'll deal with it when it happens. For now, I'm just going with the flow. It's working so far, you know." He added a wink at the end, causing Bentley to groan audibly, and Penelope to giggle.

"I swear Sly, you never change," she grinned.

"I try not to," Sly chuckled. "Regardless, I really am sorry I didn't contact any of you as soon as I could. And I know you're going to get tired of me saying that, but I really am sorry Bentley. You and Murray are like brothers to me, and it makes me feel guilty I had to leave so suddenly without a word."

Bentley waved a hand, smiling himself. "Don't worry about it Sly. I'm just glad you're doing okay and you're not currently in jail."

They all chuckled softly, at the idea of Sly being in jail, but eventually quieted down to try and talk some more before parting ways. As far as Sly could tell, Bentley and Penelope were living in Paris, somewhere near their old hideout. They were both currently looking for jobs, even though they both were technically rich with their part of the Vault takings. However, Sly could respect their decision, as even he had to admit that even though it felt strange having a job, it also felt good to be normal for once. They spent hours discussing how they were going to spend the money they had, wondering how the others were doing, and even had Dimitri come in for a bit to chat.

Eventually, Sly had to call it quits, and he and Bentley exchanged numbers so that they wouldn't be out of contact again.

"Bentley, I promise I won't disappear on you again," Sly grinned as he wrote down his number on a napkin. "I know how much you cry when I'm not around."

"I only cry, because I'm ecstatic I don't need to deal with you messing with my laptop again," Bentley replied. "Which, by the way, you still owe me for putting so many viruses on it."

"Hey, I was only using it to get you a great birthday present."

Bentley snorted loudly.

"Right... Anyway, Sly, it was great talking again. I'll call you whenever Murray gets back in Paris, and we'll be sure to meet up again." Bentley gave Sly a grin, and Sly bent down to give both he and Penelope a hug before they left for opposite ends of the city.

As Sly walked back to his apartment, he stuffed the napkin with Bentley's number in his pocket, and beaming as he went along. He got a few strange looks from some of the people walking by, but the raccoon didn't care.

He was glad that he was finally able to more or less explain what had happened back on Kaine Island. As much as it still pained him to separate from his friends again, Sly knew that what he was doing was for his own happiness as well. Once he could get Carmelita to warm up a bit more to him, then Sly knew that he was going to be able to be with the vixen without anymore barriers.

And Sly was more than prepared to take the next step when that happened.

Grinning broadly as he walked along, Sly very nearly skipped his way back home, but refrained from doing so as it'd draw more attention. But he couldn't help whistle a loud and jaunty tune to himself as he walked along the darkened streets of Paris, unaware of the dark eyes and shadow watching his every step.

* * *

**Whoops. I hope this wasn't too long or boring for you guys. So looks like things are going to start picking up from here. So let's enjoy the ride, shall we? Yes, I'm aware of kind of skipped over that little scene we see at the end of Sly 3, with Bentley seeing Carmelita and Sly together at a ball/dance of sorts. But hey, I can take some creative licensing, right?**

**Also, please excuse my rather pathetic attempt at typing up Dimitri's lines. He's rather hard to portray when it comes to his dialect. I applaud all of you out there who make it look so easy!**


	5. A Glitch in the Program

Last Edited: (06.23.12)

**An update so soon? Unheard of!**

**I know I said the story was going to pick up a bit more in this chapter, but I realized there are a few things I had yet to explain/do, so there's now an extra chapter in between. It should probably be said, that I've had this entire story planned out since the beginning, but usually end up editing here and there just to make sure it all runs smoothly. I just hope it's for the better, and once again, that no one gets bored while reading. **

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 5: A Glitch in the Program

* * *

"Just hold the gun steady with two paws, and you should be fine."

Sly sighed, and pulled the earmuffs on again. Far across the long hallway, his target was still untouched by any of his shots, and he wondered to himself if he'd ever hit the damn thing. It'd now been about a month and a half since he'd last seen Bentley and Penelope at the club, and Sly had been training rigorously in how to fire a shock pistol, and other guns, along with some basic combat. So far, he'd been failing terribly at the gun training, and he was starting to get frustrated.

_Why can't I just stick with batons and hand to hand combat anyway? _He scowled.

Carmelita frowned at seeing the raccoon look irritated, and she poked him in the shoulder, gesturing for him to pull off the earmuffs. Once he did, she said, "don't get so frustrated, Cooper. You're doing pretty well for not remembering how to fire a gun."

"I guess so," he muttered.

The vixen stifled a laugh at seeing him pout like a child, and look at the gun in his paws like it was the very bane of his existence. "You know, if you can hit the target today, I'll treat you to lunch."

He started at her words, and looked down at her, trying to read her face. Soon enough though, he lost himself in her large brown eyes, and they stared at one another for a bit. Eventually, Carmelita cleared her throat, her fur darkening slightly with a blush. "Okay Cooper, stop trying to waste time."

"Right," he sighed again. Pulling the earmuffs back on, he lifted his arms and held the gun as steady as he could, squinting down the sights. The theory of firing a gun was easy enough to remember, but somehow Sly couldn't hit the target no matter how close it was. Perhaps it was just his own aversion to guns themselves, or if he was subconsciously trying to fail so that he could have an excuse to become a thief again.

_No, that's not it, _he thought to himself.

Carmelita watched the raccoon's body language and saw that he was still tense and aggravated. His arms were locked in place, and the placement of his paws were correct enough, but she could see the slight tremble in his body. Sighing, she stepped forward, and pulled her body flush to him.

Sly stiffened under her, and looked down, a confused look on his face, but made no arguments or moves to get get away from her arms.

Ignoring the burning in her own cheeks, and how firm his back muscles felt under her own body, the vixen lifted her own paws, and carefully adjusted little things in his posture. He let her do what she needed, until she held him in place, and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He didn't move at all, but chose to relish in her body heat. The two had never been this close before, save for when he'd helped her escape from the cops so long ago. And although he'd enjoyed it, Carmelita had certainly made it clear she only did it so she wouldn't go back to jail; although that had to be a lie, right?

An elbow in his ribs told him that he should go back to practicing his aiming.

Carmelita herself was feeling awkward with what she'd done, and her mind was screaming at her to let him go. Her heart was going a mile a minute, and she would have been surprised if Sly couldn't feel the beat against his back. _I'm only doing this to help him, so that he doesn't shoot his own foot off, _she told herself firmly.

However, as much as she wanted to deny that it didn't feel good to be pressed up against him like this… it really did.

Sly quickly went back to looking towards the target, and squinted once more. He let out a deep breath, trying to calm his own heart down, and pulled the trigger. The aftershock from the pistol's blast tore through his arms and shoulders, almost kicking his arms back, but he kept himself as tense as possible so that he didn't hit Carmelita in the jaw. Much to his surprise, the projectile hit the target on the shoulder. They both stood where they were, Sly with his arms still held out, and a slight grin on his face, and Carmelita still holding her paws over his own.

Eventually, he looked down at her, and she looked up at him. They were both beaming, happy that Sly had finally accomplished what was once thought impossible.

However, Carmelita soon found herself lost in his beautiful brown eyes. She'd never seen them this close before, and she marveled at how warm they looked, with slight flecks of gold and amber in the irises. His warm breath ruffled the fur on her cheeks, and soon the two were leaning a bit further into each other. Their lips were now centimeters apart, and Carmelita closed her eyes, wanting so badly to finally be able to taste him on her lips. Butterflies were swarming in her stomach, her knees felt like jelly under her, and she felt like she was going to pass out at any second.

But it all felt so right.

Sly himself, had closed his eyes to relish in the idea that he was finally going to be able to give the woman he'd loved for so long a proper kiss. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and he could feel himself shaking slightly. This was far different from when he'd kissed her at the Krack-Karov volcano is Russia. That first time, he hadn't thought much of it, as he'd only really done it on a whim to escape, but he'd still enjoyed it somewhat then. Now though, this was the first time he'd finally be able to leave behind any inhibitions, and kiss Carmelita as a man she might actually love back.

This was just how things were supposed to be between them.

Unfortunately, because of their earmuffs, and closed eyes, they didn't notice the heavy footfalls coming from behind.

"Hey Sly, you're late for our - _whoa!_"

Both of them jumped at the exclamation, and looked back to see Liam, smirking like he'd just caught the two doing the nasty. Both Sly and Carmelita detangled themselves from each other quickly, pulling off their earmuffs. The burning in Carmelita's cheeks was enough to make it feel like steam was coming out of her ears, and she threw a scowl at Liam, who still looked pleased with himself.

Sly cleared his throat awkwardly, and tried to smooth over his embarrassment. "Ever heard of knocking, Liam?"

Liam laughed heartily. "And miss seeing you guys do something like that? Hell no." The panther barely dodged a pair of earmuffs aimed at his head, but that toothy grin never left his face. "You need to fix your aim, Inspector."

Carmelita glared at Liam, but soon enough sighed and shook her head. Seems like her moment with Sly had been ruined, however, she decided that perhaps it might have been for the best. As much as she knew that she had feelings for the raccoon, she wasn't entirely prepared for the entire precinct to know about it. She'd just gotten caught up in the moment.

She could only hope that Liam would keep his mouth shut.

"Liam, I know how much you like to gossip like a high school girl, but I'd appreciate it if you kept this - uh - _meeting _under wraps," Sly voiced the vixen's concerns for her. She hid a smile.

The panther held his paws up. "Of course. I won't go around and tell the world that you two are finally hooking up. Tell me, how long until we have little coons and foxes running around?"

Carmelita blushed heavily, and was close to taking her boots off, and hurling it at the panther's head, but Sly once again said, "that's not really something we want to talk about right now."

As subtlety as she could, Carmelita reached a paw forward, and laid it on Sly's back so that Liam wouldn't see. She saw him turn his head slightly, and toss a smile her way. It was obvious that the two were thinking about the same thing. They both knew that they couldn't hide their growing feelings for one another anymore, but they also didn't want to tell the world just yet. Although they weren't officially in a relationship, the two knew that eventually it might come to that. And when that happened, they could very well take that next step into marriage. However, they wanted to do it on their own terms, and take it slow.

"Alright, then," Liam nodded. As much as he wanted to tease the two because they were both his friends, he also respected their wishes. "Anyway, I need to steal Sly away from you, because he promised to have a few sparring matches with me."

"Oh, was that today?" Sly scratched the back of his head. He sighed, and set the shock pistol aside, and hung the earmuffs on a hook. "Let me get changed, and we'll meet up at the gym."

Liam nodded. "Sure thing. Just make sure you two get a room next time you want to… 'get busy.'"

"_LIAM!_" Carmelita shrieked in horror. This time, she really did bend down to untie her boots to throw them at the panther, but he was gone before she could go through with it. She glared after Liam's fleeing tail, but sighed and straightened. She caught the amused look on Sly's face. "What?"

"Nothing," the raccoon coughed, and smoothed over his features. "I better go before Liam gets anymore ideas about this."

Carmelita nodded in agreement. They both stared at each other awkwardly, until Sly finally cleared his throat, and pulled away from her.

She watched Sly leave, but blinked when he suddenly paused, and then walked swiftly back to her. She quirked an eyebrow as he neared, and she saw the grin plastered across his face. Carmelita suddenly felt apprehensive.

"What is it?"

He leaned in close, so that his muzzle was close to her ear, causing the appendage to twitch. His warm breath sent a shiver down her spine, and she barely caught his words.

"I intend to take that promise of your's to heart, gorgeous," he breathed softly. Pulling away, he watched with satisfaction at the look on her face. Carmelita felt her cheeks heat up again, and she tried to hide it with an emotionless face. It didn't work.

"W-what promise?" she asked, although she already knew.

Chuckling, he said, "you know what I mean. But how about we make that lunch, a dinner instead? I know a nice restaurant I'd love to take you to. What to do you say?"

Carmelita fell speechless at his words, knowing that she'd always wanted to hear those words from him. The only things they'd ever done before, that could qualify as a 'date', had been those late night chases across the rooftops, and that time after Clock-la. She hesitated for a heartbeat, before she said just barely above a whisper, "yes."

She could see that his entire face lit up, and he looked ready to pull her into his arms.

"Perfect. I'll pick you up tomorrow night at 8 PM."

"A-alright." This time, he didn't hesitate, and gently pulled her in, and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. Although it was gentle, and not rough in the slightest, Carmelita felt the fur on the back of her neck rise, and her knees grow weak. Eventually, he pulled away, gave her a wink, and left.

Just like at the Krack-karov volcano, she pressed a paw to her lips, eyes misted over, and a blush across her face.

Yes, this was exactly how she wanted everything to go.

* * *

"Oof!"

All the air whooshed out of Sly's lungs as he landed painfully on his back. Sparring matches with Liam usually led to the panther overpowering the raccoon with sheer strength, as the two were vastly different in size and muscle tone. That wasn't to say that Sly didn't know how to fight against those who were larger than him, but that panther was sneaky. It was because of this, Sly had become good friends with the floor.

Panting, Sly lay on his back until Liam loomed over him. "Didn't we talk about you holding back whenever we sparred?" the former thief groaned.

Liam laughed, and held a paw out, which Sly took graciously. Once he was on his feet, the raccoon wiped the sweat from his brow, and crouched to nab the bottle of water kept off to the side.

"What good would a sparring match be if you didn't learn to take on guys bigger than you?" Liam smirked.

Sly knew that his friend was vastly proud of being able to out power the former thief, as Sly had always been considered one of the best out there. Of course, Sly's forte was speed and flexibility, not strength - that was more Murray's thing. As he gulped down mouthfuls of water, Sly thought back to his friends again. Bentley had yet to contact him, and the raccoon was desperate to see the others again. Especially Murray, since he missed the big guy and had yet to see him.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Sly responded with, "I guess that's true. How about we take a break though? My back can't take another bruise."

Another smirk lit up Liam's features, but he agreed, and the two went to sit on a bench pushed against the side of the large training room. Interpol had integrated this new gym not long ago so that officers could let off any pent up stress. It wasn't inside the actual headquarters, but rather in the building right next to it, and many people - both Interpol agents and regular people - could be found training there. Although Sly knew that there was no way he could practice his thieving moves there, at the very least he could keep his body fit.

"So, what is this with Inspector Fox anyway?" Liam started. Sly nearly choked on his water, and threw a heated look at the panther.

"I thought I said we weren't going to talk about that."

"You just said not to say anything in public. But anyway, it's good to see Inspector Fox finally being happy. You wouldn't remember, but she was always so focused on her work, and trying to catch a certain thief that she never had time for others," Liam mused lightly.

Sly hid a grin at hearing that. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," the panther nodded. He paused to pull a sip from his water bottle. "Anyway, I'm glad to see her opening up slightly. Don't get me wrong, she still has that temper of hers, but can't say it isn't good to see her smiling again." Liam looked over at the raccoon, and grinned sheepishly himself. "You know, I used to have a thing for Inspector Fox."

"Oh?" Sly's brows rose at this. That was certainly a surprise to hear. "Did… you ever let her know?"

"Naw," Liam sighed. He stood and stretched until his muscles loosened. "Never had the courage to say anything to her. But hey, no hard feelings. I'm okay with the fact that you're going to be the one she's chasing after."

There was a bit of an awkward silence between the two, as both of them lost themselves in thoughts. Sly felt a bit guilty for the fact that one of the few friends he'd made as a cop, was now denied being with a girl he had a crush on. "Hey, I'm sorry if I over stepped my boundaries Liam-"

"Don't worry about it," the panther replied, holding up a paw to silence the still seated man. "We should probably get out of here anyway. I could use a good shower."

Sly laughed, and stood up to follow Liam, when a paw landed on his shoulder. He was spun around, stumbling slightly before he could say a word of protest and found himself staring up at a tall dingo. Philip Bordeaux, a Constable like Sly, sneered down at him with narrowed amber colored orbs. His light, sandy fur was trimmed neatly, and gave off the appearance that the man was one who took care of himself. "Didn't expect to run into you here, Cooper," he spat.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Sly crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm not really in the mood to deal with you right now, Bordeaux."

The dingo was one of the few who still didn't want to accept that Sly had changed over a new leaf. Bordeaux had a temper, and whenever he could, he'd try to antagonize Sly.

"I don't care what you think," the dingo hissed. "We don't need rats like you at Interpol."

Sly frowned. "As far as I can tell, I haven't done anything wrong. Tell me, were you always this dimwitted?"

Bordeaux snarled, and went to grab Sly by the collar, when Liam grabbed the canine's wrist. "I suggest you leave before you do something you regret, Constable," Liam demanded, his green eyes boiling over with anger.

"Liam, it's fine," Sly sighed, and nudged the panther in the ribs. As admirable as it was to see Liam sticking up for him, Sly felt like he was being undermined. "I do have a suggestion though."

Both taller men stopped to look at Sly, who had a confident smirk on his face.

"How about we have a bit of a sparring match, and get rid of some steam? Unless you're scared I'll beat your tail to the ground."

Looking scandalized, Bordeaux growled, and ripped his arm away from Liam's. "Who the hell thinks I can't take a scrawny rat like you?"

Sly stifled a snicker, as he eyed the dingo up and down, knowing that Bordeaux was just about the same muscle mass as himself. "Well, what do you say?"

"I say: get ready to have your ass kicked."

Bordeaux stalked away to the middle of the mat, and just before Sly went to follow, his friend stepped in. "Cooper, are you sure about this? You know Bordeaux's not going to hold back much less than I do."

"I know," Sly smirked over his shoulder. His brown eyes were nearly glowing in his glee at finally being able to get rid of his frustrations all over the dingo who was making his life at Interpol a living hell. "I'm not either."

Liam sighed, and scratched his chin as he watched the raccoon stop in front of the much taller man. The two stared at each for a bit, and Liam couldn't help but feel apprehensive. He knew that this supposed 'sparring match' was going to be intense, and that both weren't going to walk away without more than just a couple of bruises.

Sly now stood in front of Bordeaux, seemingly unfazed by the dingo's piercing stare. Yawning widely, knowing that it'd be enough to make Bordeaux angrier, Sly bowed slightly. "After you."

His opponent didn't even hesitate, and Sly was dodging a much faster right hook than he'd expected. The force of the blow ruffled Sly's fur on his cheek, and he leaped back when Bordeaux aimed a roundhouse kick. His eyes widened when he realized that Bordeaux was seriously not holding back, and crouched under another wide kick, and stuck his leg out to trip his opponent up.

Bordeaux, not expecting the sudden attack, tripped and fell to his side, then quickly rolled away to stand once more. He was surprised that the raccoon hadn't attacked while he was recovering from the kick, but the dingo shook the thought away, and lunged forward with another powerful punch.

Sly's flipped over Bordeaux's charging body, and kicked him in the back, sending the man sprawling to the ground. This time, Bordeaux stood with a snarl, and he lunged forward again almost blindly, and Sly was prepared to dodge away again. However, the canine proved to be much faster than Sly had anticipated, and he was grabbed by the collar and pulled forward to meet a fist. His nose spurted blood, and Sly staggered back, before being kicked in the stomach. He landed heavily on his knees, coughing. His sensitive ears caught the sound of something cutting through the air, and he rolled away just as Bordeaux' leg came down like a guillotine where Sly had been kneeling.

Panting, Sly growled loudly himself, and used his feet to kick off the mat, and barreled straight into Bordeaux's middle The two fell in a tangle of limbs, and Sly used this to his advantage, and aimed a punch right at Bordeaux's chin. He was straddled across his opponent's chest, preventing the dingo from countering back. His knuckles ached with each punch, but he didn't stop. Bruises and blood began to flow from Bordeaux's busted lip. As much as Sly wanted to hold back, he was finding himself becoming increasingly angry. The heat of battle was starting to get the raccoon's blood and adrenaline pumping.

He was suddenly determined to prove a point.

Bordeaux suddenly grabbed Sly by the shoulders, and brought the raccoon down so that the two slammed heads against one another. Both of them groaned at the contact, and Sly found himself being flung aside. Blinded by the hit, the raccoon was unable to react as he was kicked back again, landing on his side with a grunt.

He squinted up at Bordeaux, and saw that the dingo was bleeding from a cut lip, and a black eye was forming over his left eye. With a loud growl, Bordeaux picked Sly up by the neck, and kneed the raccoon in the gut again.

Grunting, Sly used his own legs to reach forward, and catch the dingo in the chest, and they both stumbled away from each other. Hurting bad from the hits he'd taken, Sly knew that this wasn't going very well for him. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and quickly cleared his mind of any raging thoughts.

This was no different than his thieving days. Bordeaux was just another guard he needed to get past before being able to steal whatever relic he had his eye on.

Finally able to think clearly, Sly straightened. He didn't move from his spot while the fury in his eyes had calmed slightly.

A look of confusion crossed Bordeaux's face, and he hesitated for a moment before he lunged forward again, trying to land another punch on the raccoon's face. Sly easily side stepped the punch, and grabbed Bordeaux's arm, pulled the dingo forward, and used his foot to trip him up. A loud thud echoed in the now silent gym, and Bordeaux found himself gasping for air when Sly slammed his foot onto the dingo's chest. Dazed, the dingo couldn't do a thing when Sly kicked him in the side, his ribs protesting to the hit.

The raccoon then pulled back his arm to clock Bordeaux in the nose, and just as he was about to hit, Sly stopped. His fist paused mere centimeters from the canine's nearly broken nose. The two were panting heavily, and sweating profusely, both staring into each others' eyes, Bordeaux's amber gaze wide, while Sly's brown eyes remained narrowed and hard. Eventually, Sly pulled away and let the dingo stagger to his feet. Bordeaux was settling into another stance, but was shocked to see that Sly hadn't moved.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bordeaux demanded. His voice was heated and it was clear that he was ready to go another round.

Sly observed the various bruises and bleeding cuts on the canine's face and shook his head. He crossed his arms across his chest and said, "I think we're done here. You can barely stand, and I'm pretty sure you couldn't go another round. Just admit defeat, and you can walk away with your face still looking as ugly as before."

Bordeaux's lip pulled back into a snarl, his teeth flashing dangerously. "You god damned bastard!" He looked ready to try and choke the raccoon right then and there. His venomous anger flared dangerously at the sight of Sly looking almost bored with the entire thing.

Before the canine could take a step forward though, he was slammed back onto the mats with an aching jaw. Bordeaux blinked in surprise to see Liam rubbing his knuckles, and standing over him. Even Sly looked surprised to see that the panther had stepped in.

"I suggest you get the hell out of here before you do something you'll regret," Liam growled angrily.

Although Liam was shorter, he had more muscle mass than the dog and they both knew that Bordeaux would not stand a chance. The steady, and anger filled stare that Liam gave was more than enough to make any mortal man want to take a step back. Knowing he was defeated, Bordeaux glowered at Liam, hurled one last hate filled glare at Sly before picking himself up from the floor, and stalking away from them. The two watch as the dingo shoved a timid looking weasel aside, and left the gym without another word.

Liam let out a breath. "That guy needs an attitude adjustment."

"No kidding," Sly sighed. He rubbed his sore jaw, and then grinned up at Liam. "Thanks for that. I'm sure Bordeaux would have had no problem killing me in front of so many witnesses. I could take him, but I like to think I'm a nice enough guy to let him keep his pride."

Chuckling, Liam slapped a large hand across Sly's shoulder blades, causing the raccoon to stumble slightly. He then quickly led Sly towards the shower areas, so that he could hand the raccoon fistfuls of toilet paper to wipe the blood away from the raccoon's nose. While wiping the trails of crimson away, Sly touched his snout tenderly, grimacing when it throbbed in pain. There were a couple of bruises on his cheeks, and along his sides, but Sly felt pretty good. He'd gotten worse while on his thieving adventures.

"You sure you're okay? No concussions, or broken bones?" Liam asked. Worry filled his voice, and Sly waved them away.

"I'm fine. Thanks though. But I don't think Carmelita would appreciate seeing me like this on our date tomorrow," he sighed.

"Chicks dig battle scars you know," Liam pointed out, making the two of them burst into laughter. While still laughing, Sly found himself beaming widely, and knowing that Liam had certainly earned a few brownie points for sticking up for him back there. It took real gal to throw away any misconceptions of a man who had previously been known as a thief. While he contemplated this, Sly hoped that Bordeaux wouldn't try to hurt Liam in any way.

A frown marred his features, his laughter fading suddenly.

_If he tries, I'll make sure he'll regret it._

* * *

A knock at the door had Barkley looking up with furrowed brows. He was usually left alone for the majority of his work day, so to have someone come around during the late afternoon was rather strange. Usually, _he_ was the one calling people in. However, he simply sighed, and grunted, "come in."

The door opened with a click, and the old badger's bushy eyebrows knitted further together to see Constable Bordeaux walk in. There was a hard look in the dingo's amber eyes, and he shut the door behind him.

"Chief, I have a few concerns we need to talk about," he said firmly. From the way Bordeaux was speaking, it was obvious that he was extremely agitated. Coupled with a large bruise over his left eye that nearly closed it, and nose that looked as though it'd just recently stopped bleeding, it was obvious he'd just come in from a brawl.

"Constable, what the hell happened to you?" Barkley demanded.

Bordeaux's face contorted into a furious glare, and he spat out, "your _wonderful_ new Constable decided to tell me a few things with some punches thrown in for good measure."

Surprise crossed Barkley's face. Then his brows tightened again. "Constable, I hardly believe that someone would do this to you without a good reason. Especially if I think it's who you're talking about."

The dingo snarled, and he stalked forward, slamming his paws against the Chief's desk. The few items he had on the desk rattled from the sudden vibrations, but Barkley hardly seemed fazed. He was accustomed to Bordeaux's rather unorthodox - and sometimes violent - actions. One would wonder just how, someone like him managed to nab a job at Interpol, but Bordeaux had proven himself efficient when it came to capturing crooks.

"He was a god damned thief! And thieves are liars and crooks! Why the _fuck_ are you all letting him pull the wool over your eyes?" Bordeaux shouted, his teeth bared.

Barkley sighed and crushed his spent cigar in his already filled ashtray. "You can't deny he's been a great asset to our team. We've caught more criminals with Cooper on our side than we would have without. And he's only been here for a month or so. I - for one - see no evidence of him lying or stealing."

"Bullshit," the Constable snapped. "I'm not falling for any crap that raccoon is trying to pull. You and everyone else might be so blinded by his lies, but I'm not. Once a thief, always a thief."

"Constable Bordeaux," warned the badger. He shot the much taller man a sharp glare, effectively making the dingo falter. Even with all the anger Bordeaux usually displayed, Barkley knew the Constable was also one to follow a superior's orders without much protest. "I suggest you think twice before saying anything else. Doing so will cost you that badge you're so proud of, and a month's probation."

The dingo shot the Chief a venomous glare, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. Barkley mused to himself that he perhaps he should have threatened the Constable with his badge ages ago.

"I understand your frustration," sighed Barkley, "but you have to realize this wasn't entirely my decision alone. Commissioner Arks was the one who ultimately made the decision to keep Cooper around."

"Commissioner Arks?" Bordeaux scowled. He kept his thoughts to himself, however he sneered, "regardless none of you seem to acknowledge the evidence right before your eyes, so I'm going to prove it all to you."

With that said, the dingo turned and left, slamming the door. Some of the framed pictures Barkley had put up on the walls rattled, but thankfully didn't fall. The old badger heaved a shaky sigh. Running a paw across his face, he scrubbed at the roughness on his chin, groaning softly.

_This just keeps getting better and better…_

* * *

**Seems like Bordeaux has some anger issues, huh? What do you think his reasoning might be for it? Well, let's wait and see, shall we? It's been so long since I've done a fight/action scene, so I sincerely hope it was up to par. The next chapter will be Sly and Carmelita's date, and I promise, **that** chapter will bring much more happenings than this one probably did. Also, it should be up fairly soon-ish, as I was nearly finished writing it, until a few things cropped up, and this chapter snuck in between.**

**Before I forget, I noticed before that someone commented on the fact that these characters shouldn't really swear, because in the game they don't. You're... gonna have to excuse me for ignoring that, because I think they're all consenting adults and would most likely swear (especially someone like Bordeaux). So I'm sorry if the swearing offends anyone. I try to keep it to a minimum, and reserved for specific characters. But sometimes it slips because of certain situations. (You'll see later.)**

******Also, just a quick thanks to everyone reading! I very much appreciate the support and kind words from everyone who's reviewed thus far. You're the reason I'm trying my hardest to update quickly, and to the best of my meager writing abilities. Until next time guys.**


	6. Nightcall

Last Edited: (07.02.12)

**Hey, I'm finally including some romance in this story. That's pretty strange for me actually, haha. Be warned, this chapter is… pretty long for my standards. I usually abstain from making them more than 10 pages or so, but there was a lot I wanted to do in this and it ended up being so much more than expected.**

**Get ready for some **light** reading.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 6: Nightcall

* * *

The roar of the engine felt like a choir of angels singing to Murray, as he drove through the streets of Paris in his newly repaired van. He was given a few glancing stares from the drivers beside him, but the hippo didn't care. He was just too excited to finally be back in Paris again after having completed his Dreamtime training.

At last, Murray was going to see his friends again. The hippo silently urged the lights to turn green so that he could go, revving his engine as a vocal sound of his wishes. When it turned, he shot off like a bullet, quickly leaving the other cars in the dust. He happily maneuvered his vehicle through the streets, whistling a tune to himself, until he was pulling up to his destination.

Turning the engine off, he took a minute to look at the building. It was rather a normal looking house as far as he could tell. White bricks with a slanted dark brown roof, with several windows framed with dark wood, painted a picturesque world of the perfect home in the suburbs. For Murray it was rather strange. He was accustomed to the gang living in mostly derelict areas, and places that didn't draw attention. This house seemed more like it belonged to a rich business man with a hot wife at his side. Eventually, a sheepish grin spread over Murray's face when he realized, that they were - in fact - rich as all Hell. That, and Bentley did have a rather attractive woman at his hip to boast of.

He hopped out of his van, and ran up to the door, feeling excitement course through his veins. Bouncing on the balls of his feet as he pounded on the door he only had to wait for about a minute before it opened, and Penelope stepped out beaming.

Before the mouse could get a word in edge wise, Murray's voice boomed across the street in an incomprehensible yell, and he swept her into his arms. Penelope squeaked in surprise and tried to wriggle out, but Murray's grip proved to be way too strong for her to get out of. "Penelope! Oh man, it's so good to see you again! I've missed you!"

"M-Murray! Y-you're squishing m-me!" she choked out desperately.

"Oops, sorry Penelope," he apologized, immediately letting her drop. "I'm just excited for us to hang out again like the old days!"

Wheezing slightly, and trying to check that none of her ribs were broken, Penelope managed to smile up at the taller man. She fixed her glasses before speaking. "I'm glad you could come back again, Murray. We all missed you too. Bentley always talked about how much he missed you."

Murray blushed, and chuckled. "Man. I really missed those guys. Is Sly is here too?"

Penelope's face fell slightly. "Come on in, I'm sure Bentley will try to force feed you some of his casserole now."

At the thought of eating the turtle's attempt at food the hippo's face fell slightly but he shook it off, knowing that it didn't matter. They were finally going to be able to talk again, and even at the risk of getting some sort of food poisoning, Murray could ignore that. For the sake of seeing one of his brothers again he was okay with it.

The robust hippo followed the shorter female into the house, his eyes searching and widening at the sight of how _normal_ the rooms were. The walls were painted in a pale blue and the floors were made of dark wood, perfect for Bentley to maneuver his wheelchair through. Speaking of whom, said turtle wheeled around a corner with a smile on his face well.

"Murray, it's great to see you!"

Looking as though he was ready to charge forward and grab the disabled man in a bone crushing hug, Penelope stepped in and held a paw up to stop Murray. "Whoa, Murray. I'd like my boyfriend to be in one piece today."

A sheepish grin crossed Murray's face and he settled with patting Bentley on his shell instead. Once the formalities were over with, the three went into the living room with drinks, snacks and words being exchanged loudly by all. They were all extremely jaded at the fact that they were all together like old times, with the exception of one man.

Murray leaned forward to nab a fistful of chips and asked, "so, how's everyone?"

Bentley took a sip at his drink, throwing a significant look to his girlfriend. She noticed the look and gave him a weak smile, knowing what he wanted to say but saw the hesitation in his eyes. Her paw came forward and rested on his knee, where he took it and rubbed her knuckles affectionately. Finally, the turtle replied. "Well Murray… Everyone's doing fine. Dimitri is in Paris, so if you ever want to visit him we can arrange something."

"Awesome."

Despite herself, Penelope's face scrunched up into a grimace. "Awesome is the last word I'd use to describe him."

"Aw, he's not that bad," Murray protested. As flamboyant and cocky the iguana was, the brawler had to admit that things weren't as entertaining as when Dimitri was around. After all, the peculiar way the club owner spoke always made Murray stare in awe, as he wondered just how anybody could physically stand to speak like that.

Bentley cleared his throat. "Regardless… Dimitri's offered us a private booth at his club whenever we want."

Murray gave a thumbs up as his approval of said plan. "Cool! How about Sly?"

That was the dreaded question Bentley wasn't sure he wanted to answer. Although the turtle knew that their raccoon friend was more than willing to meet up together - as Bentley had the phone number he'd been given still tucked away in the pocket of the shirt he'd worn that night - it was still problematic. Considering that Sly was now posing as a cop at Interpol, getting the raccoon away from Carmelita, or any other cops, might prove to cause a few situations. However, Bentley took a deep breath and said, "well, Sly's at Interpol."

Big mistake to start off with that.

His face contorting into one of pure horror and then to pure anger, Murray stood to his full height and cracked his knuckles. "_WHAT HAPPENED? IS HE OKAY? WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING? 'THE MURRAY' IS READY TO BUST HIM OUT!_"

He was ready to bolt out the door, when both Bentley and Penelope shouted for the hippo to stop. Once he paused briefly, Penelope was quick to say, "no Murray! He's not in jail!"

"Sly's actually working as a cop," Bentley added, wincing when he caught the look of skepticism on Murray's face. Then the hippo started laughing.

"That's a great joke, Bentley!" Murray grinned. "Really though, where's Sly? I miss him."

The two geniuses exchanged looks again. "We're telling the truth Murray."

As the thought set in, Murray's frowned and asked, "what's he doing there?"

"We just told you, believe it or not," Penelope winced when the hippo bellowed out a 'what?'. "Inspector Fox is his partner, and Sly is pretending to have amnesia. It's a bit impossible to believe, but it's the truth."

Murray slumped back in his seat, staring at a random part of the wall. "Whoa. I wasn't expecting that. Wait, does that mean we can never see Sly again?"

By the way he sounded, it was obvious the hippo wouldn't have been able to stand not seeing Sly again. The three of them had never been separated for more than a few days at the most, and it was usually only because they'd been forced to. They were all brothers in a sense, and were close enough to consider each other as such. Murray was the one who usually wore his heart on his sleeve and the one who really let the others know what he was feeling at the moment. And right now, Murray looked like his dreams had been shattered with that one question, and he looked extremely saddened.

Penelope's eyes softened and she stood to try and comfort the hippo. "Murray, it's fine. Sly said that we can call him whenever we want. It'll just be a bit more difficult to see him as often as before."

Murray sniffed slightly. "Right. I'll just miss seeing him every day like usual." Then his face brightened. "But at least _we _can hang out again. Just like old times!"

"Exactly!" the mouse explained with a grin on her face.

Even as they all went back to talking, there was still a bit of a downtrodden look on all their faces. The fact that Bentley and Penelope had both been able to see Sly not too long ago had actually led them to believe that they'd be able to see the raccoon much more. The unfortunate thing was, they hadn't realized until now, that this wouldn't be the case. Murray sighed and set down the glass of water he'd just been drinking.

"Guys, it just won't be the same without him around," he repeated dejectedly. He was trying subtly to let them know that he wanted to maybe try and convince Sly to come back to their gang. The fact remained, that with Sly gone, they really didn't have much to fall back to. Sure they had a lot of money but for all their lives all they'd known was thieving and running from the law. And to have it all suddenly be pulled from underneath their feet like a rug, was a devastating blow. Even now, Murray started wondering just what he would do. He knew that it could be as easy as just taking a look around, but at this point in time, the idea that he couldn't see his friends as often as before, was making his heart ache.

The turtle heaved a sigh himself. "I know Murray, but, we can't really pull him away from Carmelita. He does love her, and as his friends we need to understand that."

Scratching the back of his head, the hippo nodded although that light of sadness didn't leave his eyes. "You're right… I'm just going to miss my brother."

Bentley nodded and felt his girlfriend wrap an arm around his shoulders in comfort. He looked her in the eye and leaned slightly into the touch. "I know Murray. I will too."

* * *

Carmelita frowned at herself in the mirror as she inspected her look. She carefully smoothed the wrinkles out of the dress she was wearing and sighed. Was her dress too provocative? Turning slightly, she frowned as she patted her stomach, wondering if perhaps she'd put on some weight. The dress she'd chosen for this night, was a black little number which hugged her curves in a way that would make any mortal man's jaw drop. She'd let her hair loose from the braid she always wore, and the ebony curls flowed down her back and shoulders like a waterfall. She'd abstained from wearing too much makeup, save for the light tint of red on her lips and some blush. Overall, she had to wonder if maybe she'd dressed up too much for this date but realized that maybe she was only over thinking it, because this was _Sly Cooper_ she was going out with.

_What are you getting yourself into? _she wondered. _Going out on a date with Cooper…_

However even as she scolded herself, there was a small voice telling her to simply enjoy the date and forget their past. After all, Sly was now a cop and Carmelita knew that because of this, they could finally be able to break down the walls separating them from doing anything further than just flirting.

A sigh escaped from her, and she stifled a yelp when the phone rang. She quickly strode to it, and answered. "Hello?"

"Inspector," came Sly's suave voice from the phone line. "I'm outside whenever you'd do me the pleasure of appearing."

Despite herself, she laughed. "Alright Cooper, I'll be right down."

Once she hung up, she pulled on a shrug, grabbed her clutch and locked the door behind herself. As she waited for the elevator, she took one last look in the reflective surface of the elevator doors, and nodded to herself. When she walked out of her apartment building, she stopped in her tracks at seeing what Cooper had done. First off, the raccoon himself was standing beside a _limo _of all things, wearing a handsome black tuxedo. The hair atop his head had been combed back from it's usual disheveled spikes, and the grin on his face widened when he caught sight of her frozen figure. Carmelita felt her cheeks heat up when she saw his eyes roam her figure for a moment, before he held out a paw for her.

"Your ride awaits, my lady," he teased with a wink.

Stumbling slightly in the heels she was wearing, Carmelita came forward and took his paw with a shiver. "Cooper, you didn't have to go this far," she mumbled softly. She tried not to let herself think of how much he had spent, but the raccoon waved away her worries.

"Inspector, this is a date of all things. You don't think I'd cheap out and take you to McBees, did you?"

She laughed. "Of course not, but this _is_ rather extravagant. Much more than I expected."

Sly opened the door to the limo for her and helped her in before sliding in himself and sitting down beside her. "Maybe, but it doesn't hold a candle to your beauty."

A blush crossed her cheeks as she looked away to hide her face. As much as it pleased her that Sly thought of her in such high regard, it still made her feel odd about it. Was this Sly Cooper the cop speaking, or the thief he'd forgotten coming through? She pushed those thoughts away and decided that she shouldn't allow this to stop enjoying the date. Her thoughts had distracted her until she felt Sly shift an arm over her shoulder, rubbing the tense muscles.

"What's wrong?" he queried, looking worriedly into her eyes.

Carmelita shook her head and flashed him a smile. "Nothing, I'm sorry. This is all just kind of strange. After all, we've been partners for so long and nothing else…"

"I suppose," Sly answered. "I might not remember much about what went on between us, but I don't think we should let that stop us from enjoying this, should it? Unless you're uncomfortable, to which I'm more than willing to call this date off, Inspector."

The vixen eyed him, trying to catch any forms of deception. However, his warm brown eyes held a certain light to them that Carmelita could tell was only but the truth. And soon she found herself forgetting the doubts she might have had and she smiled. "You're right. I'm sorry. Also, feel free to forget about formalities tonight, Cooper. Just call me Carmelita."

A wide grin crossed his face at her permission to call her by name. "Certainly, _Carmelita._"

The emphasis he put into her name, along with the slight Spanish lilt, caused a shudder to run up Carmelita's spine and she glowed bright red again. _Maybe I shouldn't have put any blush on tonight, _she mused silently.

They spoke to each other about anything that came to mind as they rode through the Parisian streets, until finally pulling up to their destination. Carmelita started when she realized that she'd just spent the entire time speaking to Cooper as easily as any other person she knew. It always came as a surprise to her just how much of a gentleman he was, as well as how easy going and stress free he was. He had this amazing ability to make Carmelita forget most of her troubles whenever he opened his mouth or just by being near her.

Sly led her out of the limo by the arm and into the restaurant he'd chosen for their dinner.

Carmelita read the sign emblazoned onto the canopy in front of the door as, _La Rose D'or_, to which the vixen fixed her date with wide eyes. "Cooper, this is one of the most expensive restaurants in Paris!"

The raccoon had just been speaking with the hostess, a short beaver dressed in black and gold clothing, but he paused to look down at her. Another cheeky grin crossed his face. "Honestly, Carmelita, you don't think I'd allow someone like yourself to eat anywhere but at the best, did you?"

She flushed. "As flattering as that is Cooper, I didn't think you'd be going all out for a dinner date. Why are you?"

He didn't answer, as they were led to a small booth tucked away in the middle of the restaurant. As Carmelita walked through the restaurant, she let her eyes wander to the extravagance of the place, seeing as she never thought that she'd be in this type of setting ever. It was rather spacious, with a section of the restaurant having been cleared of any tables for a dance floor. A stage had been placed, with instruments shining in the spotlights. From what Carmelita could tell, tonight there'd be a band playing and she wondered if Sly had known about this before hand. The walls were painted in burnt sienna, with cream accents and dark wood paneled across like columns. Tables were set up in neat rows looking rather simple compared to the richness of the colours. White tablecloths were spread on the round tables, with a candled centerpiece in the middle, and neatly folded cream napkins. They were being led towards booths covered in dark brown cloth pressed against the walls, with lamps throwing a soft glow across the secluded sections. The slight din of conversation and clattering of cutlery against plates added to the general mood in the _La Rose D'or_.

Carmelita found herself blushing when she caught sight of many couples giving each other love filled gazes or sometimes sharing a kiss over the table. As nice as it would have been to continue their interrupted kiss from before, the vixen couldn't imagine herself doing so in the middle of a rather crowded restaurant.

"Carm?" came Sly's voice, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She suddenly realized that they were now at their table, and she hastily muttered a 'sorry' before sliding into the booth. Carmelita was rather surprised at how comfortable the seats were and she slid her shrug off her shoulders. Sly sat in front of her and the hostess left them with menus and the promise of a waiter coming around to take their orders.

After the hostess had left, Carmelita spoke up again. "You didn't answer me before."

There was no real heat to her words, but it was obvious that Carmelita didn't want to be lied to or ignored about her point from before. Sly sighed and took a sip from the water provided for them.

"You see," he started, "I've been thinking about this day for a long while now. Ever since we came back to Interpol and we started working together again. There was a lot of time that I spent wondering what it'd be like to get into the infamous _Ol' Ironsides' _good side."

He didn't catch the grimace she made at hearing the old nickname. Hardly anybody used it anymore at Interpol; and with good reason. Carmelita shook the vision of that horrid tigress from her head and managed to catch the last of Sly's explanation.

"And I figured that you deserved the best after seeing the way some officers have treated you." Sly tossed her a grin, and reached over to take her paw in his own. Usually, she would have pulled away but Carmelita kept her paw where it was, much to both of their surprises.

Carmelita stammered out, looking extremely exalted at what he'd just said, "I… Thank you Cooper… That makes me feel better about this whole thing."

"Why, are you nervous? I promise I won't do anything too forward, or you can arrest me right here," he let her go to put his paws up at the sides of his head. The vixen giggled and shook her head.

"You're impossible."

"I try," he winked.

Their conversation was cut short as the waiter came around with a bottle of wine and glasses. Carmelita's brows rose at this as she watched Sly accept the bottle with a thank you and promised the waiter to have their orders ready when he came around next. "You said you're not trying anything," she pointed out to the wine.

Sly poured out a glass of wine for the vixen and handed it to her. "I'm not. You get a complimentary bottle of wine whenever you visit here 5 times or more."

From the grin on his face, Carmelita knew that he was lying to her about that, but she accepted the glass without a word of protest. After all, who was she to deny one of the finest brands of wine out there? Soon enough, they were looking over the menu and discussing various things about anything that came to mind. Once again, Carmelita marveled at how easy it was to talk to him and she was brought back to their one on one a few years ago after Clock-la.

He was actually asking her the same questions as before and she was more than happy to oblige him with answers.

They were finishing up their dinner when the few lights in the restaurant dimmed slightly and a band consisting of a badger, beaver, and parrot walked up to the stage. The room had quieted and the band soon struck up a slow and swaying song. It made many of the patrons in the restaurant stand to make their way to the dance floor. Carmelita wasn't surprised to see Sly stand up from the booth and stand beside her.

He held out his paw for her, the ghost of a grin on his face. "Care to dance, Carmelita?"

Flushing, Carmelita hesitated for just a moment, before she delicately placed her paw in his, marveling at how his simple touch seemed to send pleasurable shivers up her spine. "I'd be delighted."

Sly led her onto the dance floor, keeping his grip on her firm, but not hurtful. Once they were in the middle of the floor he pulled her flush to his body, making Carmelita shiver once more at the close proximity. He placed his paw on her small waist, and kept the other in his own. Soon, they were both swaying to the song, their movements fluid almost as though they were one being. Carmelita's face burned at being so close to the raccoon, and she could see a bit of a flush atop his cheeks as well; it seemed like she wasn't the only one feeling something from this.

The music continued to be hypnotic and before the vixen could stop herself, she was settling her head against his chest. Her ear caught the beating of his heart and she smiled to herself. This felt so right and though it was no where close to the energy they'd shared during their tango so many years ago, their motions were enough to send Carmelita's mind reeling. The way their bodies just seemed to _fit_ together, as though they were two puzzle pieces that had been put together, made her want to swoon.

She let out a satisfied sigh. "This is nice."

His chest rumbled with his chuckle. "I knew I wouldn't be the only one enjoying this," he breathed into her hair. She heard him inhale the scent of the shampoo she used, making her shudder again.

Their silence was more than enough to convey to each other how comfortable this was. Without saying a single word, the two were able to feel at home in each others' arms and Carmelita melted deeper into his body. Her ear perked up when Sly sighed softly and muttered, "we should get going, no?"

Not wanting it to end, Carmelita held him a bit tighter. Her arm slunk around his waist and held tightly. The raccoon inhaled sharply, surprised at her actions but the vixen ignored it to look him in the eye.

When he caught her look, Sly smiled. "Well, I have no problem dancing the night away if it's alright with you."

Carmelita giggled and leaned her head back onto his chest. "Of course not. We have the day off tomorrow after all."

They stayed that way for 3 more songs, before Carmelita extricated herself from his arms and heat. She looked up into his warm brown eyes and smiled. "Alright, Cooper. I think it's time we called this a night."

"What, do you have a curfew?" he goaded. Playfully punching him in the shoulder, the duo laughed at their antics and made their way back to their table. Their plates had long since been cleared away, and all that way left was a candle beginning to burn down. The waiter came along soon after, and Sly paid the bill, ignoring any sort of protests and attempts Carmelita made to help. She felt a bit guilty for making the raccoon spend so much on her, but he reassured her.

"Don't worry about it," he said as they walked back outside to wait for their ride. "I wouldn't think of making a beautiful woman, such as yourself, pay for something like this."

She blushed at his comments. "Cooper, you certainly know how to flatter a woman."

He laughed and opened the door to their limo just as it pulled up in front of them. "I try, Carmelita."

Their ride was a rather short one, Carmelita realized, and soon enough they were pulling up to her apartment building. Somehow, she felt a bit saddened that the night was over, and she turned to the raccoon. She hesitated in leaving so suddenly, but he chuckled, reading her expression perfectly.

"How about I escort you back to your apartment? I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I didn't."

Smiling, she nodded, and took his arm in her own, and the two were making their way upstairs. Unlocking the door to her apartment, Carmelita paused in the doorway and turned towards Sly, who had escorted her up. She tucked a curl behind an ear and looked anywhere but into those intoxicating brown eyes of his.

"This was a wonderful night," she said, "and I had a great time."

Sly grinned and bowed with an exaggerated flourish of his paw. "The pleasure is all mine," he winked at her, earning a laugh from the vixen.

Carmelita smiled, and gestured towards her darkened apartment. "Well, Cooper. How about I treat you to a drink?"

Quirking a brow, he seemed unsure if he should. However, she made the decision for him, and tugged on his tie to get him into the apartment. He stumbled slightly, taken aback until Carmelita shut the door and leaned him against it. Her paws running up to his shoulders made the raccoon shudder, making Carmelita smirk. She didn't even know why she was doing this, but somehow, all the events from the night had compelled her to take the next step. Sly seemed to catch on, and he held her closer, wrapping his strong arms around her waist.

Their position was reminiscent to their previous interrupted kiss at the shooting range with the exception of them being face to face this time. Carmelita leaned upwards, her eyes heavily lidded.

This was it. This was the moment she'd been waiting for, and no one would come in and make them break apart again.

They were mere centimeters from each others lips, staring into each others' eyes. Carmelita was lost in his gaze. Somehow, she could entertain herself for hours on end, just be looking into those brown eyes of his. From the way they seemed to glow with their own light, or the way they seemed so sincere, it just made the vixen's heart race. Finally unable to continue denying her own urges, Carmelita snatched the tie around his neck and pulled him forward, closing the distance between them.

Sly seemed surprised by her sudden brashness, but soon enough he fell into it, closing his eyes and relishing in the feel of her soft, plump lips. Carmelita herself, marveled at how he seemed so gentle, yet firm, and it brought her back to their first (supposed) kiss at the Krack-karov volcano. Considering he didn't remember that one, she could say that this was their first proper kiss.

And she was certainly enjoying it.

Their kiss took a rougher and more passionate turn, when Sly's tongue probed at her lips, and she let him gain entry.

One of his paws ran up her waist, to the back of her head, pulling her in deeper. Her own paws ran up from his chest, and wrapped loosely around his neck, her back arching slightly so that she could keep their close contact.

When they parted, both of them were breathless. Nothing could be heard in the silent apartment except for their panting. They simply stared at each other.

Sly was the first to break the stillness, licking his lips and then grinning dazedly. "That was certainly… _unexpected_…"

Carmelita giggled, while she pecked him once more on the lips. "There'll be more where that came from, _Sly._"

His eyes widened at hearing her say his name. Even she was surprised at herself, as she had never called him by first name. The name had just slipped past her tongue. She'd always referred to him as: Cooper, criminal, thief, stupid raccoon, or, - her personal favorite - Ringtail. Even now, when they were partners, Carmelita had found it hard not to call him any of those names, with the exception of Cooper. She always vowed not to let her tongue slip, as she was afraid doing so would trigger forgotten memories in the raccoon.

A clever grin spread across his face. "You're certainly much more open than I first thought, _mi amor_."

Goose bumps formed under her fur, along with a shudder of delight running down her spine. His accent really needed work, but hearing him say such things in her native tongue was like taking a swig of alcohol. It was intoxicating, and she desperately wanted to hear him say more. She leaned up towards his ear with an amused titter, when she saw the appendage flicker at her warm breath. "_Llama me eso una vez mas, Mapache_," she crooned softly. (Call me that one more time, Raccoon)

It was his turn to lean forward and breathe into her ear, "of course, _mi amor_."

* * *

_A dark figure situated on a rooftop, watched as the raccoon and vixen climbed out of a limo. The two looked as though they'd just come from a night out, as the figure eyed the handsome tuxedo the raccoon wore, and the shapely dress the vixen bore._

_This was obviously not an every day occurrence, as the figure had been watching these two for a long time now. It knew every move the raccoon had made over the course of the month it'd been watching. Although, it was rather amusing to say the least, as the former thief should have easily known he was being watched. But thus far, the figure had avoided all detection, and that suited it just fine._

_After all, the time to reveal itself was not now._

_The cloak it was wearing fluttered in the wind, exposing a metal limb with sharp claws on its paw. Tearing its gaze away from the couple, the figure held the metallic limb in front of themselves. The bright moonlight reflected beautifully off the chrome finish, and the figure smiled. As much as it detested the prosthetic, it did have its uses._

_Nothing was a match for the terrifying strength contained in the limb._

_The figure brought its eyes back towards the apartment building in front of its position, and quickly found the windows it was looking for. Eventually, the door opened, and the raccoon and vixen spilled forth. The two spoke for a moment at the door, before the vixen pulled the raccoon into the room. They were close to one another, and getting closer. It continued to watch as they kissed, their passion and fervor growing increasingly more powerful, until they were running their paws all over each others' bodies._

_Chuckling softly, the figure knew this could be considered some sort of sick perversion, but it also knew that it _needed_ to follow the raccoon's every move. In order to complete its task, the figure had to know every move and routine he went through during the day and night. Of course, the fact that those two were always together made the figure frown in distaste, but it also reminded itself that the raccoon was far more important than the harlot clinging to him._

_Eventually, it pulled its gaze away when the couple fell onto the bed and began to disrobe one another._

_Knowing that eventually they would just go to bed, the figure amused itself in grabbing a pigeon that had just landed beside it. The bird let out a squawk of fear, struggling against the intense grip in the figure's metallic limb. There was a pleasurable crunch and the pigeons' cries died off until it was still. Blood and innards spilled across the figure's paw, some of it dripping towards to the ground below. Now bored, it let the pigeon's limp body fall, and licked the blood from its claws._

_How it wished that it was the raccoon's blood on its claws right now._

But soon it will be…_ it thought with a smirk._

_Yes, the plan would soon be in motion, and it looked at the apartment again to see the raccoon and vixen were just finishing up and going to sleep their activities off._

_The figure stood, and leapt from its position with a flip onto another rooftop. Running swiftly, the figure leaped across rooftops with ease, and raced across wires with the grace of a cat. Eventually, it stopped in front of its destination and while grinning widely, rummaged in its pocket. It pulled out a folded piece of card. In the moonlight, the bright blue and white raccoon head stuck out like a sore thumb, which the figure knew was the purpose of its existence. Anyone who saw the insignia would instantly know who it was from._

_A smirk lit up the figure's face, its sharp teeth flashing in the moonlight._

Yes, this was going to be perfect…

* * *

**Phew, and there we are. Romance is not my strong suit at all, so I hope it wasn't too cheesy or - er - **explicit. **I've been agonizing over this chapter for a long while now, and have now ended up with 7 different versions. That's the reason why it wasn't put up soon enough, when I said it would be.**

**Please don't hurt me too much, fellow romance writers who are much better at it than I.**

**Until next chapter, my fellow readers!**


	7. Roguelike

****Last Edited: (08.23.12)

**Here we are, at the next chapter. Once again, this turned out to be much longer than I'd first anticipated, so be prepared. Also, just another quick thank you to anyone who's still reading, and reviewing and whatnot. The support is much appreciated. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 7: Roguelike

* * *

The harsh ringing of a phone had Carmelita waking up much earlier than she would have preferred. She groaned softly, and opened her eyes in the dimly lit room, glaring at the offensive object on her bedside table. Her cell phone continued to ring and vibrate, the buzzing noise increasingly jarring against her sensitive ears, before deciding that ignoring it wasn't helping anything. She sighed, and reached a paw from under the warm blankets, and snatched the phone. Without seeing the number displayed, she flicked it open and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Inspector Fox, you're needed immediately," came Barkley's voice, loud and to the point as he always was. He sounded wide awake, and even a bit agitated, much to the vixen's surprise.

"What's wrong?"

The Chief hesitated, before saying gruffly, "there's been a break in at the Louvre, and we need all units on hand. Just get here as soon as you can. Don't bring Cooper if you can avoid it."

Carmelita froze where she was, and glanced down at the lump beside her. Sly was currently buried in the blankets, curled on his side and breathing deeply. He didn't seem to be awake at the moment, but she knew that if she moved from her position, that the raccoon would be stirred. "I… That may be impossible," she sighed.

Barkley grunted. "Fine, just get here as soon as you can."

With that said, he ended the call, and Carmelita let out another sigh before flipping the phone shut.

"What'd the Chief want?" came Sly's tired sounding voice.

"You were awake?"

"Kind of hard to, when he was nearly yelling in your ear," he chuckled. She watched as the raccoon extracted himself from the cocoon of blankets, and stretched until there was a satisfying crack from his limbs and joints. Sly blinked tiredly at her, and yawned. "Sounded important."

"He said there was a break in at the Louvre, and that we should get there ASAP," Carmelita muttered. Thinking hard, she wondered why the Chief told her to avoid letting Sly come to the crime scene. It was as though he was trying to hide something. But that couldn't be it, right?

"Strange," Sly mumbled, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Carmelita sighed, and stood to walk towards her closet to grab her clothes for the day, feeling Sly's eyes following her every move. To sate his hungry eyes, she let her hips sway in a hypnotic manner, feeling a bit self conscious. But she figured, they'd already taken the next step, so might as well have some fun with it. When she looked back at Sly, she saw that he'd propped himself on his side, with a very pleased looking expression on his face.

He grinned. "Carm, you really need to stop before I do something I regret."

The pet name he'd given her, had shivers running laps up her spine, but she quickly shook it off.

Smiling, she reached into her closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt. While she was pulling on a pair of panties, her ears perked up at the sound of Sly shuffling around the room, looking for his own clothing. In spite of herself, Carmelita took a quick peek. It was hard to look away as he bent down to grab his discarded pants, and began pulling them on over his boxers. His muscles rippled across his back, and she felt a sudden urge to run her hands through the luscious grey fur covering his body. But she resisted, and pulled a jacket on. She walked past him to the bathroom to quickly run a brush through her hair and pull it back into a thick braid.

Her thoughts wandered to what had happened the night before, and she blushed a deep scarlet. It'd be absolutely wonderful she had to admit, and although she wondered if perhaps they'd taken it too fast her thoughts said otherwise. The fact that she'd let him into the most intimate part of life said a lot about her feelings for the raccoon, and Carmelita knew that to deny him now from a serious relationship would be a blow to his ego. However, she also knew that she wouldn't refrain from doing so, because the vixen really _did_ want to call Sly Cooper as hers. And not as a captured criminal as she'd once thought she wanted. Sighing, she went to grab her toothbrush from its usual perch.

A pair of strong arms suddenly surrounded her from behind, eliciting a gasp from the startled vixen. "Cooper, we don't have time for this," she finally managed with a slight eye roll.

The sensuous sound of his laugh made her shiver. "I know, but it's nice to hold you like this, Carm."

Even though she'd just admonished him, Carmelita leaned into his chest and sighed pleasantly. It certainly felt nice to have someone to wake up to in the morning. After a few minutes of just enjoying each others' warmth, Carmelita finally tried to push the raccoon away. "Alright, that's enough. We need to get to the Louvre, before Barkley or - God forbid - Liam comes around to hunt us down."

Sly chuckled. "You're right. Let's go."

He took his arms away, and she turned to see that he had already changed. Still wearing the clothes he'd taken on the date last night, the vixen sincerely hoped that no one would notice. He'd refrained from wearing the tuxedo coat from last night, but the trousers, and shirt he wore could pass as casual wear on the job. When he saw her staring, he waggled his brows at her. "I thought you said we didn't have any time."

"Don't imply anything," she scolded. However, she laughed soon afterwards, and pecked him lightly on the cheek.

After she brushed her teeth, she let Sly do what he needed to make himself look presentable, and then they were both on their way to the Louvre. The drive there was mostly silent until Carmelita decided that she needed to lay down a few things for the raccoon.

"Sly," she started. His ears perked up to show that she had his attention. "I think it goes without saying that although we had a wonderful night together, I don't want the entire precinct knowing about us. In other words, I'd appreciate it if you didn't breathe a word of this to anyone just yet."

Leaning back in his seat, Sly looked thoughtful for a moment. "Sorry if I'm hearing this wrong, but are you implying that we're - maybe -_ together_?"

Carmelita sighed, but the red flush across her cheeks told otherwise. She caught the toothy grin lighting up Sly's face, and decided to say the one word she knew that he had probably been waiting for a long time to hear. And discreetly, she'd been waiting for it too. "Yes."

Sly laughed, and she saw the grin on his face grew wider with her admittance. Unable to hold back a laugh of her own, the two were chuckling at the final barrier finally being broken down between them.

"That's a relief to hear," Sly finally managed after their laughter died out. "For a while I was afraid you'd never admit to it."

"Like I said before, Sly. Breathe a word of this, and I'll end it so fast you won't even have time to remember our relationship. Don't tell Liam either, because I know how you two like to gossip like school girls," Carmelita warned. Then her face softened and when they stopped at a red light, she turned to look at him. "Look Sly... I know it'll be hard to keep it hidden, but it'll be better for both of us if no one were to find out just yet."

The raccoon gave her a reassuring smile and even went as far as to place a paw atop his heart. "I promise not to say a word, Carmelita. Don't you trust me enough to know I wouldn't dare betray a gorgeous woman such as yourself?"

"Flattery will get you no where, Sly," she snorted.

Now happy that she had finally gotten her points across, Carmelita tried to remind herself, that although they were now going to be in a committed relationship there was still the looming fact that he had amnesia. That, and she was blatantly lying to him about his entire past and occupation. Surely one day, he would find out about everything, and once that happened, everything would collapse faster than a house of cards. And the Inspector was unsure if she could keep it up if he were to ask her about it. The only thing she could hope was that Sly never found out, or if he did he remained at her side. With this thought in mind, Carmelita's paws tightened around the wheel of her car.

"Carm, you missed our last turn," Sly's voice broke through her thoughts.

When she looked at the mirror and saw the Louvre quickly disappearing behind them, she gave out a curse and quickly changed their course. She could feel Sly's eyes on her.

He cleared his throat. "If this is about me saying something to anyone, I promise I won't say anything, Carm," he reassured her again. Although Carmelita knew that she wasn't worrying about that anymore as Sly was more than capable of keeping his promises, she jumped on the change of subject.

"I just like hearing you say that again, Sly," she responded. His chuckle had her smiling slightly as they finally pulled into their destination. Her eyes caught many police officers milling about, some putting up yellow tape, and others checking out the premises.

Strewn about were other police cars as well, and Carmelita spotted at least a handful of officers redirecting traffic and crowds away from the entrances and location. The Louvre Museum was a magnificent piece of architecture, with the large pyramid shaped glass structure the main focus of the grounds outside. Sunlight shone off it like it were a giant diamond, and the water surrounding the piece also proved to add to its glory. Carmelita was sure, that the stores underneath the glass pyramid had to be closed, however she wasn't able to confirm this idea. The main building, that had once been a palace, did not pale in the least against the pyramid, as its own impressive stone face sat proud against the Parisian skies. Made of stone with beautiful facets, columns, and statues carved into it, Carmelita was always taken aback by it, even after all these years of visiting and seeing it. The periwinkle blue sky behind it, and the sun itself added a certain elegance to it, but Carmelita's focus was brought back to the situation at hand, when she spotted the stooped and old badger making his way towards them.

Closing the car's door, she and Sly met the Chief half way. Barkley furrowed his brows at seeing the two of them, and stopped right in front of them. He was wearing his normal attire of a white dress shirt, suspenders, and black trousers with the exception of looking as though he'd hurriedly pulled his clothes on. It was obvious, that the badger had been just as hastily called in, and from the look on his face, he was slightly stressed.

"Inspector. Constable," he greeted. "I'm sorry to call you both in on your days off, but as you can tell, something's not right here."

"What happened?" questioned Sly. He was looking about, trying to discover what had happened. It was obvious that whatever had occurred was inside, but it didn't stop the raccoon from looking about.

Carmelita frowned when she saw that the Chief was eying Sly with a critical stare, until he cleared his throat. "A break-in occurred last night around 1 AM, as far as we can tell. So far, the curator, and security guards haven't been able to give us proper information, with the exception of their alarm system being triggered at that time."

The vixen nodded, and looked about herself. She was now slipping back into her work mode, and she said, "would you mind taking us to the scene?"

Hesitance splayed itself across Barkley's form, and he opened his mouth to speak when someone else interrupted him.

"I would prefer if Constable Cooper went to interview the rest of the security guards." Commissioner Arks came up from behind the shorter badger, his authority immediately causing Carmelita and Barkley to stand up straighter. His amber eyes swept across them, and landed on Sly who, although a bit slower than his colleagues, also straightened. "We have more than enough officers at the scene at the moment, but we don't have enough keeping the public out, and interviewing. I do believe you'd do a fine job with that, Constable."

With his brows knitting together, it was obvious Sly wasn't happy with being told to go on the sidelines and act as a reporter. But he shrugged slightly, and said, "will do, Commissioner."

He threw one last look at Carmelita, who nodded slightly, before he was off to do what he had been instructed to do.

When the raccoon was out of hearing range, Isaac turned towards Carmelita. "I don't think Barkley has told you exactly what's happened, has he?"

The vixen shook her head and crossed her arms across her chest, another frown darkening her features. "All I was told was that there was a break-in and that something was stolen." _That and being warned not to bring Sly along, _she added to herself, but decided against saying it out loud.

Isaac nodded. "Of course. Follow me, and I'll take you to the scene."

A sigh escaped from Carmelita, but she nodded and followed the much taller male into the museum, with Barkley bringing up the rear. Once again, the brilliance of the architecture and various artefacts and artwork in the building stole Carmelita's breath away, but she shook it off to concentrate on the task at hand. She was led through winding halls and large rooms until they were towards the middle of the museum. They were now in one of the large display rooms, where a few other officers were still milling about, some collecting evidence, and others snapping pictures of access points or anything else of interest. Shards of glass lay strewn about in the room like glitter, and a few overturned plants completed the picture of chaos before her. A pedestal set in the middle of the room with a large velvet pillow on it, now stood empty which Carmelita knew had have housed item in question that had been stolen.

As they neared, the vixen found her eyes widening slightly and her tail twitching behind her, when she saw what it was that was now sitting on the pillow in question.

_Sly Cooper's calling card._

The folded piece of card was so familiar to her, that there was no way Carmelita could fool herself into believing what she was seeing was a trick of the eye. The bright blue and white card stood stuck out like a sore thumb against the deep plum coloured pillow. She felt the Commissioner's and Chief's hard gazes on her back, so she turned her attention towards them, and stammered, "i-is this is some sort of joke?"

Her paw shook slightly as she waved at the card sitting on the pillow, as though mocking them with its bright colours.

Barkley sighed heavily and scrubbed at the 5 o'clock shadow on his chin. "I'm afraid not, Inspector Fox. This is the only piece of evidence we found, and the item in question stolen was the _Star of India _on loan from the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. It's certainly something that Sly Cooper would go after if he were to go back to stealing. You can only imagine the backlash the French government will get for this."

"But that's impossible," Carmelita protested. She decided to take a closer look herself, and marched right up to the pedestal to see if perhaps they really were pulling her leg. Her legs seemed to grow heavier with each step as she neared, and she knew there was no mistaking the calling card. It was Sly Cooper's, and she even felt her heart sink down to her stomach at the thought.

_This can't be, _she thought to herself.

The_ Star of India _reminded her fiercely of the _Firestone of India _that Sly had stolen years ago, but had been brought back weeks later by him. If the gem stolen had been any other, Carmelita would have shaken it off and said it had to be impostor. But the fact that the two gems were so similar, it was as though the vixen was being mocked by the raccoon all over again, and she shut her eyes with a shuddering breath.

"Inspector," the Commissioner's voice cut through her thoughts, and she reopened her eyes to look back at the coyote. Isaac pushed his glasses up his snout and stepped forward so that they were now face to face. "Unless you have anything else to tell us, I'm afraid we'll have to go outside and arrest Sly Cooper. I did tell you if he were to go back to thieving, even _I _wouldn't be able to help him out of it. It's unfortunate, as he's been doing magnificently as an officer, but due to circum-"

"No," Carmelita cut across. She ignored the way Isaac's brows rose to dangerous heights, and how Barkley spluttered from behind at her outburst. "I won't accept that. This wasn't Sly Cooper. I can assure you that he had nothing to do with this."

Silence fell over them, with only the footsteps of other officers and the clicks that came from cameras taking pictures to permeate it. Carmelita stood her ground, her paws balling into fists. As much as she wanted to defend Cooper to the last moment, there was also something in the back of her mind telling her that this had to be him. There was no one else who would leave behind the card, or steal something that would strike such a familiar blow. However, she also reminded herself that throughout the entire night, she'd been with Cooper and she hadn't let him out of her sight.

_But what about when you were asleep?_

The Commissioner sighed softly and took his glasses off to clean them, all while saying, "well Inspector. Unless we have any other leads, I'm sorry to say that your words aren't sufficient enough to denounce Cooper as a prime suspect. Unless you have something else you want to tell me?"

Carmelita faltered under the amber gaze, and she opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. She wanted desperately you say something that would clear Sly of any charges, but at the same time, she knew doing so would be admitting to the fact they were now together. And even then, that made Carmelita's heart stop as it could put her job on the line.

She finally decided on bending the truth slightly, in order to get Sly out of this jam. "I have proof that Sly Cooper was no where near the Louvre at the time of the robbery." She took another deep breath for what she was about to say. Their gazes made her sweat slightly, as the Commissioner looked willing to listen, while Barkley seemed slightly sceptical. "I was with Cooper last night for some… work we had to finish. We parted ways around 1 AM, so there's no way he could have been here at the time."

Looking interested, Isaac tapped a finger to his chin and then glanced over at Barkley. "What do you think, Chief?"

Barkley sighed. "Well, it's the only thing we have to go on. And frankly, Commissioner, I'd rather refrain from arresting Cooper just yet. So far, he hasn't exhibited any sort of desire to go thieving. Coupled with Inspector Fox with him most of the time, and those officers you had set up outside his apartment, there hasn't been any suspicious activities on his part. I'm inclined to believe Inspector Fox at the moment."

The ghost of a smile crossed Isaac's lips and Carmelita could see something akin to amusement in his eyes. Once again, a shiver crossed her spine at the look. Of course, Commissioner Arks was privy to having those types of looks in his eyes, but it never made the vixen feel any better whenever she spoke to him. She hadn't noticed it before when she'd first started at Interpol, but now with this whole 'Sly Cooper as an officer' fiasco, she'd been speaking with the Commissioner more and more, and these unsettling looks were becoming more frequent.

"Well, if we can trust Inspector Fox's word, then I'm up to ghosting over this matter and trying to find other evidence." The coyote tossed a smile towards Carmelita, and walked towards the calling card and plucked it from its perch. "For all we know this could be just an impostor," he reasoned.

"Commissioner?" Barkley asked somewhat hesitantly. His brows were once again knitted together into a scowl, but then they rose suddenly when the Commissioner tucked the calling card into one of his pockets. "_What are you doing?_"

He put his paws up. "As far as I'm concerned, there was no evidence here. We don't know who stole the _Star of India_ and, as I'm sure, you both don't know either." When he shot the two officers a look, they were slow on the up take, but eventually nodded and saluted just as a confirmation. Giving them a curt nod, Isaac walked towards the other officers that were in the room and began to speak with them on certain matters.

Taking it as a sign that their discussion was over, Barkley turned towards Carmelita and cleared his throat. "Inspector, may I have a word with you?"

Carmelita was led outside of the room with the badger's paw firmly gripping her arm. Once they were out of earshot, Barkley cleared his throat again, pulled out a cigar from his pocket and lit it up without a concern towards the non smoking signs in the museum. It was obvious he was stressed out and needed something to calm his nerves.

"Inspector, there's something I need to ask you, and I didn't want to do so in front of other officers. Let alone in front of Commissioner Arks." He paused to inhale deeply from his cigar. "Regardless, we have a few things to discuss."

"Like what, sir?" she asked stiffly.

"Like your relationship with Cooper." The old badger didn't look angry, but he did appear as though he what he was going to say was rather important and that Carmelita should hang onto every word. Another sigh escaped from him. "As much as I wanted to believe that you were just paying him back for whatever favour he's done for you in the past, I think there's something deeper under all this."

Carmelita's frowned slightly.

"The excuse you gave to Commissioner Arks was certainly weak," he continued, "and even I suspect the Commissioner didn't exactly believe you. But he gave you the benefit of the doubt here. No, my main question here is: do you, or do you not have feelings for Sly Cooper?"

The vixen knew this was coming, and yet she hadn't prepared for any type of answer. Panicking slightly, Carmelita tried to stall as much as she could. _What do I say? I could lose my job if I say yes, or I could put Cooper in jail if I say no. _Torn between each scenario, Carmelita decided to bite the bullet and hope it didn't shoot her in the foot later on.

"No, sir," she replied in as steady a voice as she could muster. Much to her surprise, she actually sounded confident in her denial. "I wouldn't let someone like Cooper cloud my judgment on a case like this. But I can assure you, that it was _not_ Cooper who stole the _Star of India_."

An uncomfortable silence fell over to two, with Barkley studying the vixen before him, and Carmelita trying to look as calm as possible to the badger.

Finally, the Chief let out a sigh, and exhaled a loud cloud of cigar smoke. He was careful not to let the vixen be shrouded by it, before he said, "I'll trust your word, Inspector. You do understand that Commissioner Arks and I have done a lot to make sure that Cooper is an honest cop, correct?"

She nodded her understanding. Carmelita knew that this was a huge risk that they were all taking. Commissioner Arks was still under fire from some of the other officers and delegates about letting Sly Cooper into their ranks, and Chief Barkley was under the pressure of his superiors to keep Sly Cooper in line. Even Carmelita herself was being trusted to keep Sly in the dark and keep the lies in check. Her heart suddenly gave an uncomfortable twitch when she realized that she didn't like lying to Sly. She tore herself from her thoughts to catch the last of Barkley's words.

"If we find out that Cooper _is _behind this robbery, then I'm afraid that we'll have to arrest him, amnesia or not."

Carmelita nodded mutely. However, she cleared her throat, and stood straighter. "I understand, Chief. I can assure you that I'll keep a closer eye on Cooper."

Nodding, Barkley crushed the cigar against the wall and swept the cigar into a bin located close by. "I'm trusting you on this. Also, forget what you saw back there at the scene. Commissioner Arks and I will smooth over everything, so just pretend you didn't see a thing."

Carmelita watched as the old badger made his way back to the room they'd just exited, mumbling to himself the entire way back. From the way his shoulders tensed up, she could tell that even he was taken aback by the Commissioner's actions at the scene.

Turning on her heel, Carmelita began the long trek back outside, trying to gather her thoughts and trying to come up with an appropriate lie to tell Sly if he asked what happened.

She still couldn't believe what had just happened.

Her mind was reeling, sending her head into a spiral of confused thoughts. Had Sly gone back to thieving behind her back? Was he lying to her about his amnesia? Who could have done it, if Sly wasn't the one stealing again? And most importantly, why did the Commissioner effectively _break the law_ to keep Sly out of jail? All of these questions flashed across her mind in mere seconds, and it left her feeling dizzy. The vixen found her vision swimming slightly as she walked, so she carefully sat down on a bench located in one of the hallways and buried her face into her shaky paws.

_What are you getting yourself into, chica?_

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

A heavy sigh escaped from the raccoon's muzzle as he walked towards a security guard, with a pad of paper clasped in paw. Overall, he wasn't pleased with being sent off like this, but at the same time he tried to convince himself that there wasn't an ulterior motive to everything going on. A little voice told him that this wasn't the case at all, as he had barely managed to catch Carmelita's conversation on the phone with Barkley earlier in the morning.

He had his sensitive hearing to thank for that.

His ear twitched when he caught the sound of his name being called. Turning, he found himself seeing another officer running up to him. Frowning, he stood where he was to let the dingo catch up, studying the way the shorter, and slightly on the pudgy side, male looked. The canine was wearing a simple blue dress shirt and dark pants, with a black coloured jacket thrown on top. His sandy fur was much messier than Sly would have thought for an officer of the law, along with bright hazel eyes that held back a light of almost boyish excitement. In a sense, Sly was reminded of a teenage boy, who looked as though he'd accidentally walked in on a crime scene.

"Thanks for waiting," the canine breathed out heavily. He took a moment to catch his breath, before extending a paw in greeting, the biggest grin that Sly had ever seen on a man blossoming across his face. "I was asked to come and help you get the information we need. I'm Constable Dominic Bordeaux."

Sly's eyes widened and his brows rose at hearing the name, before taking the dingo's paw hesitantly. "Bordeaux?"

The Constable nodded and grinned. "Right. You probably know my older brother, huh?"

Rolling his eyes, Sly muttered, "of course."

A chuckle escaped from the shorter male and he raked a paw through his already messy hair, tousling it even more. He shrugged. "Yeah, he has some anger management issues, doesn't he? Anyway, I can tell you right now I'm nothing like Phil. Trust me."

"R-right," Sly stammered, clearly taken aback by the enthusiasm that Dominic was showing. It was like night and day trying to compare the brothers, from the way they looked, to their personalities, to their attitude towards the raccoon. Soon enough, Sly found himself coming to grips with the fact that Bordeaux's brother seemed to have no hard feelings towards him. If anything, the younger dingo seemed star struck, which had Sly squirming a bit in discomfort.

"I don't think I introduced myself properly…" started the raccoon, but Dominic only grinned wider.

"I know who are you," Dominic nodded eagerly. "The entire precinct talks about you when they don't think you're around."

Sly quirked a brow, which had Dominic's face falling into one of horror.

"Oh _crap_. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," he apologized quickly. Sly's paw was beginning to numb from how hard the dingo's hold was, but made no move to pry it away. Even though this Dominic seemed rather enthusiastic, and naive, it was also rather gratifying not to be glared at for a past he wasn't even supposed to remember.

"Don't worry about it," Sly smiled back. He gestured to his paw. "But I think I need my paw back so we can get back to work." Dominic jumped and immediately let the raccoon's paw go, with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that," he apologized quickly. He fell in step with Sly, as the raccoon started walking back towards his intended destination, all while rambling the whole way. "It's just great to finally get to meet you. You know, Phil says a lot about you, and you're nothing like he makes you out to be. He says you're a snob and think you're better than everyone else in the precinct. Oh, and he said you weren't that good looking, and that you look like a rat or something."

The sudden onslaught of chatter had Sly's head reeling and scowling at Bordeaux's supposed words, but he quickly reformed his face into one of amusement. "Geez, normally I'm used to getting the short end of the stick here, but I'm not complaining if you want to stroke my ego a bit more."

Dominic barked a laugh and slapped a paw against Sly's shoulder. "Man, my brother is wrong about you! You're a funny guy! Hey, maybe when we're done here we can go get a drink or something?"

"Uhhh…" Sly was still not quite prepared for this, but he quickly blurted out, "sure, I guess."

The dingo's grin widened even more. Sly had to wonder just how Dominic's face wasn't breaking apart at the seams. However, he shook all those thoughts from his mind once he met face to face with the security guard in question and started the routine questions and answers. Dominic was not too far behind to interject his own questions, and just as they were starting to get into the thick of things, Sly's phone started to vibrate in his pocket.

He blinked and paused in the middle of his sentence, earning a quirked brow from the guard and Constable both. When he pulled his phone out and saw the name on the screen, he sighed and said, "sorry about this, but I need to take this call. Would you mind finishing up Constable Bordeaux?" The name still left a bit of a bitter taste in Sly's mouth as he was quickly reminded of the older brother.

Dominic saluted. "Will do."

Sly gave him a smile in thanks, and then left as quickly as he could to answer the call. He pressed the button once he was out of hearing range, and pressed the phone to his ear. "I'd think you'd have better timing than this, Wizard."

"Glad to see my call is so well received. If you want I can hang up now," the turtle deadpanned.

Sly chuckled, and leaned against the wall of the Louvre, while propping a paw under his elbow. "Alright, I deserve that. What do you I owe this wonderful call to?"

"Well, it's been over a month since we've last seen each other and Murray's back in the city. He misses you and we wanted to try and get back together again as soon as possible," Bentley replied. There was a pause as Sly heard the usual ticking of a keyboard in the background, before the turtle started again. "And I figured now would be a better time than never."

"Right," the raccoon sighed softly. He looked outwards at the officers still milling about, some on the phone just like he was, or taking a break from their investigation. "I'd love to buddy. Just give me a place and time."

There was a pause. "That was certainly not what I expected," came Bentley's nasally voice, with a hint of surprise sprinkled in his tone.

"What do you mean?"

"There was the fear that we wouldn't be able to see each other as often as before, you know," sighed the turtle. "And I was prepared to hear you give me an excuse to why you couldn't meet up again."

Sly frowned. "Come on, Bentley. You think I wouldn't try my best to see you guys again? I did promise I would whenever I could. Sure, it might not be as often as before, but at least it's something, right?"

Another sigh. "Of course. I'm sorry for that. Just Murray and I got to talking, and we realized a few things during that talk. And that was one of those things."

A smile softened Sly's features as he realized that this was a bit more serious than he thought. Of course, even the raccoon had been thinking about the fact that they wouldn't be able to meet as often as before, and it was really making his heart ache at the thought. However, ever the positive type of man, Sly quickly said, "don't worry. It's not like I'm going to forget you guys. And Coopers always keep their promises."

Although Sly couldn't see it, Bentley was grinning to himself. "Of course. How could I forget that?"

Sly was about to answer back when a voice cut across him.

"Cooper!"

Sly glanced around and spotted Carmelita standing by her car, with an expression on her face he couldn't quite read. He frowned, but quickly pointed out the phone and gestured that he only needed another minute or so. Once she got the message, he pressed the phone back to his ear. "Sorry bud, but I just got called in by Carmelita. I need to go before she gets suspicious."

"Don't worry about it," Bentley replied.

Sly could hear the barely contained tone of amusement from the turtle, and he demanded with his own smirk, "what?"

"Nothing," Bentley coughed. "It's just funny to hear you actually _listening_ to someone for once."

Chuckling, the raccoon returned with, "sorry Bentley, but you don't have certain _assets_ that deserve my attention."

He gave another hearty laugh at hearing his turtle friend choke and splutter incoherently into the receiver of the phone. "Anyway, I'll let you mull over that. I'll call you later to set up another get together, alright?"

"R-right," the turtle muttered back, still clearly appalled at what Sly had said.

A grin crossed the raccoon's face as they both exchanged goodbyes and ended the call. He tucked the phone back into his pocket and jogged back to Carmelita's car, with his widening grin just barely held back in order not to raise suspicion. Although he wasn't entirely comfortable with it, he now had another supporter on his ranks in the form of Bordeaux's younger brother. He was now in a relationship with Carmelita; secretly of course. And he was going to meet up with Bentley and Murray again soon enough.

_Yeah, this day just keeps getting better, and better._

* * *

**Okay, so a lot happened in this chapter. I can assure you guys, that things will pick up from here on out, so I hope you guys aren't bored with this just yet. Anyway, until next chapter!**


	8. Blue Force Tracking

**And bit of a shorter chapter this time around. **

**This was rather fun to write, and I do (once again) hope you guys won't get bored with this chapter, haha. I realize now that adding OCs into the mix really does make things so much more fun. Also, it's great ****to see some of you are already garnering suspicions about certain characters and whatnot. I just love to read your theories and suspicions in reviews or PMs.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 8: Blue Force Tracking

* * *

Liam stretched in the cramped car he currently sat in with a loud yawn escaping his muzzle. "Man, I could really go for some coffee right about now."

The raccoon in the seat beside him snorted and held up an empty thermos. "After seeing you down this entire thing, I think you've had more than enough."

Rolling his eyes, the panther chose instead to ignore the obvious jab from his friend, and instead refocused his green gaze out of the darkened windshield to the restaurant the two were currently parked outside of. Liam had chosen to hide his dark blue car in an alleyway just across from the expensive restaurant, as they were currently supposed to be incognito. With the lights and engine shut off, and with the both of them slouched against the seats so that the car looked empty, nobody passing by would even think there were people inside.

It was chilly outside, and dark, with the night being the coldest it had been in a long time. Being the beginning of November, it was noted that winter was soon going to be descending on the French city. Their breaths were currently parting from their lips in small tufts of clouds, but Liam had refrained from turning on the heater in fear the sound would give them away. So they simply wrapped their coats tighter around themselves, and sipped at the coffee they'd brought along.

Sly checked his watch and sighed. "It's nearly 11 PM. Are we sure Yorath is still in there? We saw him going in, but he hasn't come out yet."

Liam frowned at the implication of the suggestion, but shook his head firmly. "I'm sure. Being a candidate for the _secrétaires d'État _position, I'm sure Yorath won't be doing anything to raise suspicion on himself." (Secretaries of State)

"Besides giving money to known drug and crime lords so that they intimidate some votes to his side," Sly sighed softly while rubbing at a spot between his eyes. He was feeling tired, and maybe just a bit cranky at the moment. The small headache that was forming wasn't helping matters either.

This whole stake out reminded Sly fiercely of his recon missions from before, with the exception that he couldn't just jump into action without worrying about evidence, or the red tape that followed his actions. Being a cop was rather frustrating for the former thief, as he wasn't accustomed to dancing around regulations and warrants. He was too used to going in, and going out without a care for the law.

However, Liam seemed perfectly at home with this, as Sly was experiencing a side of the panther he hadn't known before. Currently, Liam - with the exception of cracking a few jokes here and there - was extremely focused on the task at hand, and even had his shock pistol out on his lap. He was slightly tense, with his shoulders bunched together, and his arms fingers drumming along on his bicep as he had his arms crossed on his chest. His green eyes held an intensity that had Sly wondering how he hadn't noticed it before. The two had never worked on a case together, so this was the first time that Chief Barkley had put them together, as the badger had explained it being a good way for them to get used to working together outside of the office.

Barkley knew that the two were friends, so it seemed like he was going out of his way to get them talking more.

That, or perhaps Barkley was hopeful that he would have someone else to keep an eye on the raccoon.

Sly shook the thought from his head and his brows furrowed together even tighter. A cold shiver ran down his spine, so he wrapped his arms tighter around himself. The robbery at the Louvre had only occurred about a week ago, and in that time, Sly had noticed that Carmelita was sticking much closer to him than usual, along with Barkley coming around to check up on them more often. He _still_ wasn't sure what exactly happened, as all he'd been told was that a gem had been stolen and no evidence had been found.

But it was rather alarming how things changed again, as the heat from Sly becoming a Constable had cooled down about three weeks after he'd joined. Now it was starting to come back at full force.

And that was making Sly uneasy.

"Cooper, are you listening to me?" Liam's voice broke through the raccoon's thoughts.

He started and glanced over at the panther. "Sorry?"

"I said, can you get me Yorath's file from the glove compartment? I want to read it over quickly, and see if maybe we made a missed something."

With his paw extended and his green eyes expectant, Sly obeyed with a slight shrug, and dug for the file that Liam had tossed into the compartment of the car. When Sly pulled the file out, his eyes caught the picture that had been clipped to the front of it with the name written across the bottom proclaiming the man in the photo as, Jacan Yorath. The photo depicted a middle aged wolverine, with bright silver eyes, and fur as black as the darkest night. His fur was clipped neatly, with the ring of lighter grey fur on his brows, and jaw framing his already chiselled features into an even sharper look. The hair atop his head was also cropped close to his head, with a large chunk of his right ear missing. Yorath looked particularly fierce, as he easily towered over most men, and his brows were constantly pinched together in the middle. He was also known to have a bit of a temper. However, the wolverine also had many supporters on his side, with the only thing keeping him from swinging the vote to his side, was the fact that another candidate for the _secrétaires d'État _position was liked even more than Yorath was.

And it was because of this, that the wolverine was trying to do what he could to get the position, even if it meant sinking down into the dredges of the city, and bribing crime and drug lords to intimidate potential voters. And as such, this had caught the attention of Interpol, and for the past while the precinct had been doing what they could to find information.

Sly handed the file over to Liam, who accepted it without a word and flipped it open to read over the information Interpol had been able to gather. "From what I can see here, it seems like Yorath was meeting up with a new business partner. Although the other officer who'd been tailing Yorath couldn't find out _who_ it was."

Sly cursed silently, as he knew that this meant they'd have the tail the guy for a bit longer. If they were lucky, Yorath would take a detour before going home, to another place where they could gather more evidence to get a warrant to his estate, and possible arrest.

"He's coming out now," came Liam's voice, breaking Sly out of his thoughts again.

Both of them fell still, nearly holding their breath as they watched the tall wolverine stroll out of the restaurant, speaking on his phone. This brought red flags up for both the raccoon and panther, as this could mean Yorath was speaking with whoever he was bribing, or would possibly meet later tonight. From their vantage point, Liam and Sly could make out the shadowed figures walking along side Yorath, which they both recognized as security guards. From the way they were all dressed in handsome black suits with what looked like gun holsters at their hips, and their figures surrounding the wolverine, it was obvious they were on guard for anything to happen that night.

Which would make both Liam and Sly's job much more difficult.

As they continued to watch, a long, black limo pulled up the front, and the driver, a short and portly basset hound, nearly ran around the expansive limo, and pulled the door open for Yorath to climb in. In that instant, two more cars - this time a pair of black SUVs - pulled up from behind, and the guards all divided themselves into both.

Liam straightened in his seat, and his paw went towards the keys in the ignition, waiting for the group to drive off so that he could follow close behind without suspicion. He handed Sly the file, who tossed it back into the compartment. No words were exchanged between the two, as they both knew that this meant that they were quite possibly going to get the information they wanted without any source of trouble. At least, that was what they hoped for.

Unfortunately, Lady Luck has an uncanny way of kicking you down just when things were about to go right, and thus was the case tonight.

A sudden knock on Liam's window had them both nearly jumping out of their fur, and when they looked around it was to find a 9 mm handgun pointed straight at the panther's head.

Sly's eyes widened and his ears flattened at this, and even Liam seemed to tense up even more than he was before. His paw that had just started turning the key, froze where it was, with the still and chilly air in the car seeming to drop a few more degrees. Sly's head turned slightly, and he saw another guard, a tall and lithe arctic fox with white fur, and blue eyes on his side of the car, also pointing a 9 mm handgun at his head. Evidently, these two had snuck around without either of the cops noticing, to which Sly wanted to beat himself over the head for letting such a thing happen.

Surely his thieving skills weren't dulling so soon?

The taller, and much more muscular looking horned lizard with dark copper coloured scales, and hard looking green eyes, gestured for them to get out, to which both cops complied to without argument. Liam unlocked and opened the door, while Sly did the same on his side, the handguns still trained on both their heads. They held their paws up so that there would be no reason for the men holding the firearms to shoot them.

There was silence, until the fox, in a much deeper voice than Sly had expected, said, "so looks like we have a couple of pigs on our tail, huh?"

Sly ignored the insult for now, and eyed his own shock pistol currently holstered at his hip, trying to formulate a plan to get it. However, the fox noticed, and the sudden click of the hammer being pulled back had Sly's ears flattening even more, and his teeth clenching together. The fox reached forward, and pulled the shock pistol out, tossing the weapon away into the darkened alley.

A wide grin spread across the lizard's face, and he nudged the barrel of his gun against Liam's head, making the panther's eyes harden like ice. He still had his shock pistol in paw, which he was aching to use, but the guards were not as stupid as they looked.

"Alright buddy," the lizard demanded, "give me your shock pistol, and then you're both coming with us. We need to teach you cops a lesson to avoid Mr. Yorath in the future."

Obediently, Liam did as he was told. The lizard took it, tossing the pistol further into the alleyway where none of them saw where it landed, surely joining Sly's own shock pistol.

Despite the dire situation, Sly suddenly chuckled, earning confused looks from the guards, and Liam. He had a plan in mind, but it would be rather unorthodox, and possibly dangerous. But Sly figured what was more than dangerous than having a gun pointed at his head? The raccoon shot his partner a significant look, to which - luckily - Liam seemed to understand, and nodded ever so slightly.

Sly then said, "sorry to say, but that's going to be hard when it's not just us two on this case. Inspector Fox, _NOW!_"

The raccoon's voice boomed across the alleyway, making all of them jump, and the two guard's concentration to be broken. They both looked around frantically, which was exactly what both Liam and Sly needed. Sly spun around, and grabbed the gun that was still pointed at his head, and twisted the fox's wrist, making him cry out in agony. The gun clattered to the ground uselessly, and Sly caught the fox with a right hook, sending the man sprawling to the ground. At the same time, Liam grabbed the lizard's wrist as well, twisting it, and then pulling him forward so that the guard's gut met Liam's knee. The lizard let out a grunt of pain, before Liam slammed his head forward into the lizard's head, sending the man crumpling to the ground, soundlessly.

Rubbing his jaw, the fox growled at Sly before standing up and aiming wild punches and kicks at whatever he could reach. However, being a man who honed his skills in hand to hand combat, Sly easily slipped away from any of the hits, and the fox eventually grew frustrated.

In desperation, the fox lunged over to where his gun was lying, with Sly following close behind, and just as the fox's paw closed over the grip handle, Sly's booted foot slammed onto the fox's knuckles. Letting out a yell of pain, the fox tried the next best thing, and tripped Sly up by hooking his leg over Sly's. The raccoon, not expecting the sudden attack, fell onto his side, but rolled easily to his feet. As quick as a flash, Sly kicked the gun out of the fox's hand. It went flying, landing somewhere in the alley with a clatter, but both of them ignored it, as Sly knew that this fox wasn't going down without a fight.

Sly tossed another right hook, but the fox dodged it, and countered with an elbow, slamming it right into Sly's head like a battering ram. The raccoon's head whipped back from the force, stars and colours bursting in front of his eyes. Disoriented, Sly had no chance from protecting himself against blow after blow. A punch buried itself in his stomach, making Sly grunt, and then he was sent falling to the pavement where the cold, and rough ground rubbed some of the fur off his palms off. A kick delivered to his side had his ribs screaming in protest, but after blinking the dizziness away, Sly managed to grab the fox's foot and pulled.

The fox landed with thud, his head connecting with the pavement with a loud crack, making Sly wince. Silence, save for his panting sounded in his ears. As he sat up holding his side, he looked over to see if the fox wasn't _too_ injured. Luckily, it seemed like he was only knocked out, so the raccoon sighed in relief and glanced over at Liam, who was looking over in amusement.

Both of them were breathing hard from the sudden fight they'd had, but overall both didn't seem very injured, with the exception of Sly sporting a nice shiner on his cheek, and sore ribs, while Liam had large bruise on his forehead, and a bloody nose. How the panther wasn't currently rolling around on the ground in agony from slamming his head against the lizard's, Sly would never know.

The panther bent down to look for his shock pistol, but sucked on his teeth in frustration when he couldn't find it in the darkened alleyway. He then said, "you know, I think both of us can agree I did a much better job than you."

Once Sly caught his breath, he chuckled. "You're just jealous."

A snort escaped the panther, and he grinned as he finally found his shock pistol, grabbed it, and then holstered it at his hip. Straightening, he tossed an incredulous look at the raccoon, but then laughed himself. "Right. I'm jealous because I didn't waste my time beating the guy up."

To emphasize his point, he waved a paw at the unconscious fox guard.

Sly straightened himself, but crouched down next to the unconscious fox to check for any sort of ID or hidden weapons. "At least I do it with style," he quipped smoothly, earning another snort from Liam. However, the Inspector chose to just shake his head and laugh, before bending to do the same as Sly.

"Find anything?" called the panther from his side of the car, not finding anything but a folded white handkerchief with the initials, _J.Y._, sewn in gold on it.

"No," the raccoon called back, standing with a small intake of breath before wiping his paws off on his jacket. The scrapes stung slightly, but otherwise Sly ignored them. "Just this handkerchief. But from the initials, I'd say they're obviously working for Yorath. That, and their threat from before."

Liam hummed thoughtfully in his throat, and turned his back on the lizard. "Well, I think I should call this in. I really doubt we'll be able to follow Yorath now. He's long gone. But we can at least get these guys back to Interpol, and interrogate them for information."

From the way he sounded, it was obvious Liam was not happy about their target getting away, to which Sly could return the sentiment. He wasn't pleased either, as now their night had been a bust. But he hoped that these two guys who'd attacked them would be able to give them some more information.

Just as Liam was about to go to his car, and open the door, there was a sudden click from behind, followed by a deafening bang. Liam went down, blood blossoming from whatever wound he had sustained, while Sly's eyes widened, and he shouted for the panther. There was no answer, but the raccoon was quickly vaulting over the car's hood, and tackling the still staggering lizard to the ground.

They went down in a flurry of limbs and fists, with Sly ending up on top. He quickly dug his fist into the lizard's nose, earning a yelp, and bruised knuckles. But the raccoon simply kept punching, until the lizard was defenceless and groaning out for Sly to stop. And stop, Sly did, but in one last moment of blind rage, he grabbed the weapon that the lizard had used, and brought the handgun down like a hammer against his opponent's skull. The lizard immediately went limp, his blue eyes rolling up in the back of his head.

Sly let the lizard fall down to the ground, and quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs that he had in one of his pockets, and cuffed the man's wrists together. Then he was off to check on Liam, who was groaning and trying to push himself off the ground.

"_Shit_, I can't believe I was stupid enough to turn my back on that guy," Liam swore breathlessly, wincing while his paw was trying to stem the flow of blood from the wound on his ear. Sly was instantly at his side, also cursing when he saw the amount of blood matting Liam's dark fur down. He tried to gently pry the panther's fingers away from it, to try and get a good look at it. When he did, Sly's very lungs seemed to freeze, leaving him unable to breath. The bullet had torn away a large chunk of the panther's ear, leaving behind a ragged two inch hole in the appendage. Liam grimaced and asked, "how is it?"

"You'll live, but you need to go to a hospital and get that patched up," Sly tried to say in as steady a voice as he could manage. Not a stranger to serious wounds, seeing as his life as a thief had been a dangerous one, it'd never done a thing to calm Sly's nerves when his friends were hurt. His own wounds, he could deal with, but when he was left helplessly watching a friend bleed, it was like his mind went blank. His paws were shaking, and his lungs were constricting tightly, as though a metal band was being tightened across his chest.

"Speak up," Liam groaned, trying to stumble to his feet. "I can't hear very well."

Sly's teeth clenched together, but he quickly pushed Liam back down, and said into his good ear, "just stay there. I'm calling backup now."

Before he went to the car to get the walkie talkie from inside, Sly quickly gathered the other still unconscious guard and made sure he was cuffed also. As he was calling for backup, Sly grabbed whatever he could find in Liam's car to help stem the flow of blood, and then, the two were left waiting for an ambulance, and backup.

Liam grunted, sitting up straighter against the cold car, and chuckled. "Man, that guy got me good."

Flinching, Sly said, "you're lucky he didn't hit anything else, but just your ear. He must be a pretty bad aim though, because he was right behind you the whole time."

With a shake of his head, Liam sighed shakily. It seemed like the reality of the situation was catching up to him, as his eyes flicked over to the prone figure of the lizard. He ran the paw not currently held up at his still bleeding ear, through his short hair. "Looks like Lady Luck decided to smile on me tonight. I just hope I get a cool looking scar."

Sly frowned, but when he saw the tired looking grin on his friend's face, he couldn't help but laugh nervously. His ears twitched at hearing sirens coming closer to their position, both from what sounded like police cars, and an ambulance. The relief that coursed through Sly's veins had his limbs suddenly feeling sluggish, but he stood up regardless to wave the cars down.

The paramedics were instantly there, and checking Liam's vitals, and then helping him stand. They were then carting the panther off to the ambulance without a second glance back at Sly. Before Liam was pushed into the back of the ambulance, he tossed his car keys over at Sly, and said, "take my car for a bit. I'll get it back from you later."

Sly nodded, and stayed behind to speak with another Inspector, a female squirrel, who had come to take the guards away, and ask Sly what had happened. The raccoon wasn't even sure what he was saying anymore, as he was feeling exhausted. But he gave his report, and before the Inspector left, she said, "good work Constable. We'll let you know if we find out any more information."

"Thanks," Sly nodded with a slight smile.

The Inspector was then calling the other officers to go through the alley, and find any other clues, and also the guns that had been used.

Sly chose to ignore what was happening around him, and wiped the blood away from his paws with a napkin he found in Liam's car. Thankfully, the other officers left him alone, so he figured he might as well head back home. He spotted a few spectators watching the action, and officers, but he ignored them as well. He slid into the driver's seat of Liam's car, shivering slightly. It was still cold, the excitement from before having made Sly forget all about it, but now it was back in full force.

He was now looking forward to getting home, taking a hot shower, and getting some sleep before going back into Interpol in just a few hours.

When he inserted the key into the ignition of the car, something suddenly sparked in Sly's mind. Something that had the raccoon groaning, but also laughing to himself at the ridiculousness of it all. This had certainly been a long night, and he's forgotten one important thing, as his forehead hit the wheel of the car.

Sly had absolutely no clue how to drive.

* * *

**The next day…**

The rustling of the newspaper went ignored by many in the break room as Sly flipped through the large piece of newsprint in paw, his eyes scanning the headlines, and any articles he found interesting. So far, not much had caught his attention, but it was better then fighting over the remote to watch the small TV in the room. The cup of coffee currently at his elbow was now cold, as Sly had poured it for himself, but then found himself not drinking it at all. His ears twitched at the clinking of forks, running water, and the din of conversation. At the moment he wasn't feeling much up to speaking with anybody, as the bruise on his cheek, and his ribs were still smarting. He could only imagine how Liam's ear might be feeling after having part of it shot off. The panther wasn't even at work today, likely to recover some hearing loss, and to let those pain killers kick in. Carmelita wasn't even at Sly's side, as she was busy working on some paperwork, and other assignments Sly wasn't currently involved in.

But Sly's thoughts weren't on that right now.

He was still annoyed that they weren't able to get as much information as they'd hoped for from the security guards in regards to Yorath. They were refusing to talk, and Interpol was trying its best to get the info they needed. A sigh escaped the raccoon, and he absently turned the pages of the paper, not even paying attention to it anymore.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice. "Hey, Constable!"

Mentally groaning, Sly knew who it was, and his ears flattened slightly as he turned his brown gaze upwards to see Dominic grinning at him with a plastic bag and thermos in hand. He looked just as dishevelled as he had at the crime scene a week ago, and just as enthusiastic. The canine grinned widely and asked, "mind if I sit?"

Before Sly could give a proper answer, the dingo was sliding into the seat right across the raccoon, so he simply sighed, and went back to staring at the paper.

"So I heard you and Inspector Nathans managed to get some of Yorath's goons in jail, huh?" Dominic babbled. The sound of his plastic bag being opened, and the slight thud of his thermos hitting the table had Sly's ears ticking. "I heard Inspector Nathans lost some of his ear or something. Is that true? I've always wondered what it'd be like to have some sort of cool scar… Wow, that's a pretty big bruise you have on your face."

Sly set the newspaper down and stared at the earnest Constable. The slight frown on his face had the normally upbeat look on Dominic's face faltering. "Do you think that maybe we can discuss something else? I feel guilty enough that Liam was shot without being reminded about it."

"Oh, sorry," Dominic quickly apologized.

Silence fell over them as the canine dug into his lunch of what looked like pasta, and a salad. However, not one who particularly enjoyed quiet, Dominic spoke up again. "But anyway, I was wondering when we'd get those drinks together? You _did_ say that we do that, and it's been a week now."

Exhaling heavily, Sly set the newspaper down, and tried his best not to sound annoyed. Normally, he would refrain from chasing a supposed 'friend' away, but the raccoon was in no mood to discuss anything with anyone right nowt. His tail twitched hotly behind him, and he said, "maybe now isn't the time to talk about that. After what happened, I'm not really in the mood to go out and get drunk."

"Oh no, I don't drink," Dominic piped up. His paws now waved in front of him, and he looked slightly affronted. "What gave you that idea?"

Sly quirked a brow. And then he frowned, not really sure what to say. He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a gruff voice.

"Dom."

Both raccoon and canine turned their eyes to see Bordeaux standing at the door of the break room, his amber eyes hard with something Sly couldn't quite pinpoint. After throwing a dirty look at the raccoon, Bordeaux turned his gaze back towards his younger brother. "Dom, I need to talk to you."

Dominic looked perplexed, but he excused himself, and was led towards the hallway for the brothers to talk in private. Their figures were still in plain sight for Sly to see, but otherwise they wouldn't have been heard.

Normally anyway.

With his harnessed hearing from his thieving days coming into play, Sly managed to catch many of the whispered, and harsh words from the two. As much as he wanted to give the brothers their privacy, it was hard not to listen in when their whispers came out more like explosives gasps, the hushed words reaching Sly's ears like bullets. It was rather hard not to listen to them.

Of course, Bordeaux seemed the most agitated, along with throwing seething glances at the raccoon, who quickly pretended to be engrossed in his newspaper again. Dominic also seemed angry, but he seemed to steer his anger towards his older, and taller brother, by jabbing his finger at Bordeaux, and waving his arms about.

Sly managed to catch a few words, and phrases, such as: 'that stupid rat', 'you can't tell me what to do', 'shut up and fucking listen to me', and 'I know what I'm doing'.

And then came something that made Sly's brows furrow together: 'I'm just trying to save your life here'.

That made alarm bells ring in Sly's head, but he tried to ignore the rest of the whispered argument, before Bordeaux stormed away, leaving Dominic where he stood. He was actually trembling. When he turned, Sly was surprised to see the barely contained irate light in the canine's hazel eyes, but almost alarmingly so, Dominic took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and reopened them, grinning at the raccoon.

"Sorry about that," he said, coming back, and sitting down again. "Phil's a real piece of work sometimes." He chuckled at the supposed joke, and then said, "so what were we talking about again? Oh yeah, I'm sure we can get a couple of drinks and pretzels, huh? Do you like pretzels? If not we can get burgers instead, or even pizza. Or maybe Chinese..."

Tuning out whatever Dominic was jabbering about, only interjecting with some uh huhs, sures, and okays, it made it seem like he was listening.

But in reality, Sly had retreated into his thoughts about what the brothers had argued about. From the sound of things, Bordeaux was not too pleased with his younger brother talking with Sly. That wasn't what had him wonder what had happened. It was the matter that Bordeaux seemed almost worried about something, but his worry had come out as anger towards the younger canine. That, and what he had said to the younger canine.

_'I'm just trying to save your life'… _Sly's paw cupped his chin, as he stared out the window. _Just what the hell was Bordeaux talking about?_

"Constable?"

Sly turned his eyes back to see Dominic cocking his head slightly, and frowning.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," he dismissed. The canine didn't seem convinced until Sly said, "how about we go for some pizza tonight? I'll treat."

Dominic was quick on the uptake, beaming widely, and then began to prattle off the places they could go to, or what other things they could plan. Sly smiled weakly at the incessant words with only one thing on his mind.

He could only hope that getting involved with the Bordeaux brothers wouldn't come back and bite him in the tail.

* * *

**Some of you **may** recognize the name of the corrupt politician I used. Some of you may **not**. If you do recognize it, you get a high five from me. If you don't, that's okay. At the very least you made it to the end of the chapter without complaining it was too long and tedious. Right?**

**Next chapter should be up in… I don't want to say a few days, but it is nearly complete as it is. So yes, soon. **


	9. Cops Don't Use Cheat Codes

Last Edited: (07.31.12)

**Okay, so I did say a few days after, but found myself a bit unmotivated to finish off the chapter, haha. That, and my ideas refused to organize themselves enough for me to write. So, to apologize for that, have some romance! Very brief romance… Also, I should probably warn that there is a bit of a 'time skip' ahead, but don't worry. Nothing significant happened during the skip. It's just necessary so that we can actually move on in this story. Just for the sake of some action, dear readers. I'm quite sure you don't want me to write **every dirty **little detail down.**

… **Right?**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 9: Cops Don't Use Cheat Codes

* * *

"Carm, wake up."

A groan of irritation escaped the vixen, and Sly had to dodge a pillow thrown at his head. He chuckled, staring down at the - dare he think it? - _curvaceous_ lump beside him. Carmelita appeared to be asleep, but he knew that was far from the case. His vixen, although beautiful and breathtaking, was not a morning person in the slightest, and would constantly have to be bothered until she finally extricated herself from the comforts of a bed. Given that Sly was also not a morning person, it was a wonder the two even managed to get up in time to get to work, but after setting 2 alarms in the room each at opposite ends, it was usually Sly who lost the battle of waking up to turn them off.

And right now, he was trying his best to get her up before they were both late for work.

Grinning widely, he carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer into his chest, and then nuzzled her lightly in the neck, eliciting a small noise from her.

"Stop that," she murmured softly, but he heard her giggling slightly as he tickled her with his cold nose.

"I won't unless you wake up," Sly retorted back, still tickling her with his nose. Finally, she seemed to concede with is desires, and shoved away from him, grumbling as she meandered to the bathroom. He barked a laugh, and stretched before grabbing his clothing for the day.

The two had gotten ever closer over the 4 months that they'd officially called themselves a couple, with either Sly staying at Carmelita's apartment, or vice versa. They each had clothing at each others' apartments just to insure that they had something new to change into whenever they stayed over. Sly started thinking back to all the dates, intimate moments, and kisses they'd exchanged over the months, and Sly knew that it'd be nearly perfect; with the exceptions of having to hide their relationship, of course. Although, now it'd now been brought into the open, when Liam had walked in on the two kissing - _again_. That had been nearly a month ago, and much to Carmelita's chagrin, the entire precinct now knew of their relationship, both professional and personal.

But Sly wouldn't have it any other way.

It was an immense relief off his shoulders, as the pressure of keeping it secret had been nearly back breaking. Now though, they could easily be together in public without worry. Even Interpol had started trusting Sly even more now, as the officers that'd been stationed outside Sly's apartment were now gone. The same could be said about Carmelita keeping a closer eye on him, but even he had to admit that it'd been disappointing when she wasn't around as often as before. Overall though, Sly was enjoying his new freedom.

As he pulled a shirt on, a light smile graced his features, and he found himself whistling a tune, until Carmelita's voice called from the bathroom. "If you don't stop that now, I'll sew your mouth shut."

Not one to let her bad mood in the morning get to him, the raccoon called back, "I love you too, sweetie."

There was a snort, but Sly only grinned and grabbed his badge, shock pistol (which he'd recently gotten pretty good at handling, but he was still no where near good a shot as other officers were), and wallet for the day. A yawn managed to escape from his mouth, so he hid it behind a paw as he trotted to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee for the vixen. This routine was now ingrained into his very being, so the raccoon never missed a step. Get Carmelita out of bed, change, grab his necessities for the day, put on a pot of coffee, go to the office. He'd even gone as far as to memorize how exactly Carmelita liked her coffee. He was just pouring the steaming liquid into a thermos, when her arms came up from behind, and pulled him into a hug.

"That smells wonderful," she whispered softly into his ear. Sly chuckled, and turned his head to find himself staring into Carmelita's chocolate brown eyes. Even half asleep, she somehow took his breath away, and made his heart skip a beat. Her dark waves of hair fell into her eyes, with her lips coloured a deep red, perfectly complimenting her orange and cream fur. The dark mole under her left eye did nothing to retract from her beauty, no matter how many times the vixen complained of the imperfection.

He turned and wrapped an arm around her, while his other paw tilted her head upwards so they were nearly nose to nose. "Not as wonderful as you,_ mi flor_." (My flower)

Carmelita was the one to initiate a kiss, catching the raccoon off guard, but he was soon kissing back as passionately as she was. When they parted, they simply stared into each others' eyes, until Sly grinned and said, "you know, we do have some time before-"

"Don't even think about it, _mapache_." (Raccoon)

Chuckling as he was pushed away from the vixen, he turned to finish pouring the coffee, and handed the thermos to her. She took it with a thanks, and then the two were off to start their day at the precinct. Once they arrived, they made their way to the office, to get started on the paperwork waiting for them. They were certainly not expecting any sort of visitors.

As they entered, Sly suddenly froze in place when he saw that the Commissioner was waiting for them inside their office. The tall coyote had been flipping through a book - one that Sly recognized had come from one of the shelves - but turned when his ears caught the door being opened. "Morning Inspector Fox, Constable Cooper. I hope your drive here was uneventful?" he said pleasantly, with that ever present smile on his face.

Sly tried to catch Carmelita's eye, but saw that she was just as slack jawed, and wide eyed as he probably was. It was, after all, very unexpected to see Commissioner Arks in their office. The raccoon cleared his throat, and managed to greet in a hoarse voice, "other than some traffic, it wasn't bad."

A grin crossed the handsome coyote's face, his amber eyes twinkling behind his glasses. Cheerily, Isaac held the book he had in paw up, and said, "this book is quite fascinating. Would you mind if I borrowed it?"

Both of them were speechless, until Sly managed to croak out, "sure."

Still smiling, the Commissioner reopened the book, and began to flip through it again, until Carmelita finally mustered up the courage to ask, "Commissioner Arks… what are you doing here? Did something happen?"

He was silent, until he hummed softly. "You know, Inspector, I never quite took you for someone who enjoyed reading through_ Jürgen Habermas_ texts so much. It's quite interesting to find this little gem in your office."

"Commissioner Arks. Unless there's something important we need to know, Cooper and I would like to get started on some paperwork," Carmelita said as firmly as she dared, for she knew that even with his eccentricities, Isaac Arks was still one of her superiors.

Looking sideways at her, Sly could see that the vixen looked somewhat nervous, and he wondered just what was making her feel that way.

Surely the Commissioner wasn't here for anything too serious, right?

Isaac looked up at the two of them over his glasses, and smiled. "I'm sorry, my thoughts got away with me." His paw closed the book with a sharp snap, and he gestured towards Carmelita. "Inspector, I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you today. Constable, if you could… perhaps check if that paperwork on the Yorath case we've been working on has gone through? If they're all set, and ready to go, then please take them to my office. I'd very much appreciate it."

_I'm being sent away again. _Sly tried to hide the growing frown on his face, but it was rather difficult. However, he was soon giving in under the steady gaze of the Commissioner. "I'll get started on that, sir," he responded.

Throwing one final, significant look at Carmelita, he left without another word. When he closed the door behind himself, Sly was tempted to stay, and listen in, but he had a feeling that if the Commissioner happened to catch him outside that he'd sorely regret it. So Sly left to do what had been asked of him, but not without his own suspicions running amok through his head. The raccoon barely paid attention to where he was going, so focused on his own thoughts he was. Something in the back of his mind told him that they were both most likely discussing him; about what, he wasn't sure.

No matter what idea he turned over in his head, nothing could give him the answers to his unasked questions. Sly had been very careful during these past few months at Interpol. And so far, he'd been doing very well without anyone finding out about his feigned amnesia. Could it be that the Commissioner, or even Carmelita had found out about his faking amnesia, and were planning to throw him in jail?

His chest suddenly tightened at the thought. But he tried to reason that Carmelita wouldn't do that, because he loved him. She might be a cop, but she'd gone to many lengths to make sure that he was comfortable as a cop. Sly was confident she wouldn't go behind his back like this, or wouldn't throw him in jail after all this time.

He only hoped that he was right about this.

* * *

The vixen felt apprehensive as Sly was asked to leave, so she faced the Commissioner with as much calmness as she could muster. Nothing permeated the silence surrounding the two like a bubble, as the door was shut behind the raccoon. Isaac had opened the book once more, and was flipping through it with a small smile on his face.

Finally unable to handle the tension in the room that she could cut through with a knife, Carmelita asked, "Commissioner Arks?"

He flicked his eyes up towards her again, and gave a heavy sigh. With another soft 'thunk', he closed the book in paw, and set it back into the shelf where he'd first found it. "Inspector Fox, there isn't any other way to say this. You and I both know what happened back at the Louvre four months ago, correct?"

Carmelita nodded numbly. Her stomach iced over, and her throat started tightening. She had an idea to what this might pertain to, and it was with an immense struggle, that she said, "yes, sir."

"Then you and I both also know what Chief Barkley said to you about arresting Constable Cooper if we happened to find any evidence about him stealing again, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then unfortunately, I'm the bearer of bad news today." Isaac fixed the vixen with a steady stare, amber boring into brown. "Last night, there was a break in at the _Musée du Petit Palais_, where at least 200, 000 Euros worth of paintings were stolen."

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she knew what was coming, and yet she wasn't at all prepared to hear it. _Please don't let it be-_

"And Sly Cooper's calling card was - once again - found at the scene."

She reached out a paw, and steadied herself on her desk. Luckily it was near the door, so she didn't make a fool of herself walking to it. Shakily, Carmelita asked, "b-but how?"

A chuckle escaped from the coyote, earning a heated stare from the vixen. Easing a paw up to show that he wasn't mocking her, Isaac said, "obviously, Inspector, I can't tell you how the calling card got there. But for every painting stolen, Sly Cooper's card was there for it. It's the only piece of evidence we have at the moment, and I'm afraid to say that he is a main suspect, and could be arrested."

"H-He didn't do it," Carmelita finally managed, after sitting herself in her chair. Her face was buried in her paws, so her voice came out in muffled tones. "I was with Cooper all last night. There isn't any way he could have done this."

"Are you sure, Inspector?"

Looking upwards, she saw that the Commissioner's brows were furrowed together, and that his eyes were fixed solely on her. He seemed to be searching her for any form of deception, and it made her shudder slightly. She'd never get accustomed to the Commissioner's scrutiny.

"I'm sure, Commissioner."

He hummed softly in his throat, and turned away to stare out the window, clasping his paws together behind his back. No words were exchanged between the two, but if they could read each others' minds, there would surely be no silence in the office. Carmelita was still clearly dumbfounded by the sudden information, and she wracked her brain for anything that could possibly stop herself from jumping to conclusions, or anything that could confirm her spoken claims.

Last night, they had obviously been together, and had stayed up late watching a movie. Carmelita remembered it being around 12 PM when they went to bed, and from there on, everything was a blank. The vixen knew she was a rather deep sleeper, especially when Sly was around, as she knew there was no danger of anyone sneaking into her home when he was around. However, this also meant he could sneak out whenever he wanted without her finding out…

"Alright, Inspector Fox," Isaac spoke up again, breaking her whirlwind of thoughts. "I'll take your word for it. I'm willing to smooth over this incident again, however, I don't think I'll be able to hide it any longer from either Cooper, or the other officers. So, be warned that if this happens again, I'll be inclined to tell him what has happened, and interrogate him on the matter. I do hope your stories match up, Inspector Fox."

When he turned to face her, Carmelita tried to compose her face into one of who wasn't affected by the sudden turn of events, but she was sure she failed. "I'm sure they will, Commissioner."

He gave her a slight smile. "I know this must be hard on you, Inspector. Especially considering your relationship with Constable Cooper. I assure you, that I'm doing everything in my power to insure that no one finds out about this." With a soft sigh, he strode forward, and placed a large paw on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "Until then, make sure that you keep a closer eye on him. Barkley, and I will do what we can."

She nodded mutely, and didn't even watch, or hear as the Commissioner left.

_He can't be lying to me. He just can't be._

But no matter how many times she repeated this in her head, Carmelita felt herself believing it less, and less.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Ophelia was filling out a few forms, and filing away paperwork, when a knock at her door had her ears perking up slightly. She blinked and looked up, wondering just who could be interrupting her. Usually, she wouldn't be disturbed during the day as her assignments usually came in the morning when she first walked into her office, or towards the evening if they needed her services.

"Come in," she called out, while finishing off what she was writing, and glancing over her glasses to see who would answer. The door opened, with a tall dingo slipping in, and then closing the door behind himself.

Her brows rose in surprise and she adjusted the glasses on her nose as though trying to make sure what she saw was real. "Philip? What are you doing here?"

Bordeaux leaned heavily against the door with a frown on his face, until he sighed and scrubbed a paw through his hair. "Actually, I'm not sure why I'm even here," he admitted with a bit of a strained smile on his lips.

Unable to contain her grin, Ophelia stood from her desk, ignoring her paperwork for the moment, and walked towards him so that they were now face to face. She lay her paws on his chest, and smiled.

"This is a nice surprise then," she muttered. She was much shorter than Bordeaux, so she settled for resting an ear against his chest, and closing her eyes. Her arms now went around his torso, and held him closer. His arms soon surrounded her too, and she was a bit surprised to feel him trembling slightly.

"What's wrong?" she asked curiously.

Looking into his amber eyes, a soft frown spread across her delicate features. Usually, the dingo was very composed and unwilling to show any forms of weakness, especially in front of other people. Some of the only times he would take his guards down, was when the two were alone like now, but even then Ophelia found it strange that he seemed so… lost. Bordeaux was a very sure man, and stable enough in his emotions to appear in control of his actions; with the exception of his anger, but even he had admitted to having a few anger management issues. His eyes held back something she couldn't quite place, and his paws on her waist tightened slightly. Slowly, she reached up, and rubbed his tense shoulders. "Philip, you can tell me."

He hesitated and then shook his head. "No, it's fine," he sighed softly.

She stifled a gasp when his fingers cupped her chin, and brought her lips forward into a kiss. Ophelia knew this was just a ruse for her to forget what she'd observed, but she allowed herself the luxury to enjoy the feel of his lips against her own.

When they parted, she smiled and giggled. "You know that never works with me," she pointed out to him, to which the dingo shook his head.

"I should have known," he frowned slightly. His shoulders tensed again when she placed a paw on his cheek, and stroked the soft, and neatly cut fur there.

"Philip, please. Just tell me what's wrong. You know that you can tell me anything," she tried to reassure the still hesitant dingo. It was true that the two were close, but Bordeaux was still very guarded around her. However, Ophelia had her ways of getting the information she wanted, however doing so in the middle of her office would be… unwise. "Is this about your brother?"

His brows rose, and then knitted together. "What do you mean?"

Ophelia tittered and grinned up at him. "You do know that he, and Sly Cooper are now 'friends', right?"

The frown deepened on Bordeaux's face. "How the hell wouldn't I know? I don't know what the hell Dominic sees in that rat. He won't shut up about Cooper," he spat, making the rabbit's grin falter. Although she knew that Philip disliked the raccoon, it made her sigh, and rub at his tense shoulders again to calm him down. He conceded and let out another sigh. "Sorry, it's just that bastard pisses me off."

"What did he do?" she asked curiously, still rubbing her paws expertly at the tense muscles and knots. Despite himself, the canine let out a shuddering groan at feeling his stiff muscles slowly relaxing under her touch.

"It's not… something I'd like to tell you. It's kind of stupid of me," he sighed. Ophelia frowned but shook her head. She wasn't going to push him into answering.

"Well if you say so."

Silence fell over the two, as the rabbit continued her ministrations on him, until Bordeaux shook his head, and gently took her paws by the wrists, effectively stopping her actions. She looked up at him with a quizzical look, before stifling a gasp when he pulled her close into his chest again, hugging tightly, and kissing her forehead lightly.

"You're really acting strange," she murmured softly.

He was silent, until a small smile came upon his face.

"Do you remember how we first met?" asked Bordeaux softly, his voice carrying a nostalgic tone to it that had Ophelia laughing.

"How could I forget? You were bleeding all over my paws after all."

"It wasn't like I was planning to do that," he replied roughly. But then his features softened again, and he tucked a stray piece of hair out of the rabbit's blue eyes. "But I remember thinking how beautiful you were then. And you still are. I love you."

As they embraced, and shared another kiss, Ophelia parted from it to murmur against his lips, "I love you too."

She locked eyes with him, and saw that the struggle going on them from before, had gotten stronger. It was clear, that although they were sharing a tender moment together, he was still agitated, and bothered by something. "Philip, if you don't tell me what's going on with you, I'm going to force it out of you."

Bordeaux eyed her, seeing no hint of a lie in her gaze, before he sighed heavily and held the shorter female closer.

"I… have a favour I need to ask for…"

* * *

**3 days later…**

Bentley and Murray were excited.

Finally, after 4 months of delays, planning and trying to get their schedules in check, Sly was going to be coming over to the new apartment Bentley and Penelope lived in. Murray had been staying with them in one of the spare rooms they had, as the two lovebirds had told their friend that if he had no where else to stay, he was more than welcome to stay with them. So for the past few months, they'd been living together just like old times; with the exception of one raccoon thief not being around.

Currently, Penelope was chopping up vegetables for a salad, while Murray made his infamous grilled cheese sandwiches. As much as Penelope had begged the large hippo to let her make something else, he'd insisted on making the meal, as the three men had literally grown up eating his grilled cheese sandwiches. That, and he wanted something nostalgic to welcome Sly back again. Finally conceding defeat, Penelope had shaken her head, and boasted that she would make a nice salad to compliment the calorie busting meal. However, even as she tossed a dressing on top of the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers, the intoxicating smell of the cheese melting, and the bread toasting was starting to making her stomach rumble.

Murray seemed to notice, and he grinned toothily at the shorter female. "No one can resist the cooking of 'The Murray!'" he boasted, while pumping his chest out in pride. Although his persona was effectively brought down a few notches by the apron he wore, proclaiming, 'kiss the chef!'

Penelope giggled at the display and said, "okay, I admit they smell pretty good."

Murray went back to his supposed 'cooking', while Penelope covered the salad bowl, and went to seek out her boyfriend. She found him typing away on his laptop as he usually was, and a devious grin graced her features. She brushed some of her blonde hair from her eyes, and snuck up on the wheelchair bound reptile, until she was directly behind him. Her paws landed heavily on his shoulders while she exclaimed 'boo!', causing Bentley to yelp in shock, and nearly fall out of his wheelchair.

When he realized who had snuck up in him, and that it was just Penelope, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipated, and he sagged against his desk.

"D-don't do that," Bentley gasped out, while wiping away the sweat that had beaded on his forehead from the fear.

Penelope giggled, and laced her arms around his neck to peer at the computer's screen. "What are you doing anyway? You left Murray, and I to make dinner."

He pushed his glasses up with a thumb and grinned awkwardly. "Well, I was just looking up a few things for our project. We need to order those new parts for next week, or we'll be stuck waiting for another month or so."

"Sounds good," she agreed as she laid her chin on Bentley's shoulder. Just then, the doorbell rang, and Murray's booming voice shouted from the kitchen that he would get the door. Penelope laughed and turned back to see that Bentley had gone back to clicking away and typing up negotiations for the parts needed.

"Come out as soon as you're done, okay?" she quickly pecked him on the cheek, earning a flush across the reptile's face, before she turned, and joined the display going on in the hallway.

Meanwhile, Murray was opening the door with a wide grin on his face as he saw his raccoon friend now standing on the stoop, looking just as happy as Murray felt.

"_SLY!_"

Said man had no chance to respond, as Murray quickly swept his much smaller friend into a rib cracking hug, squeezing as tightly as he would a tube of toothpaste. It was a shock to all that Sly didn't break in half right then and there. "_OH MAN IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN! I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!_"

Sly just managed to gasp out past his lungs being squeezed together, "i-it's good to see y-you too, buddy! B-but you're c-crushing me!"

"Oops."

Murray immediately let his friend fall to his feet, with Sly pulling in deep breaths of air, and holding his ribs. Eventually, he recovered and he gave a weak smile at his much taller friend, to which Murray offered a sheepish grin in apology for his actions.

"Have you been working out, Murray?" asked Sly, now straightening.

The hippo's face immediately contorted to one of delight, and he immediately posed, with the muscles on his arms bulging out. "Of course! 'The Murray' would never think of letting himself go!"

A chuckle escaped Sly, and he patted his friend gently on the stomach. "Well, I think you need to lay off those grilled cheese sandwiches, huh?" When Murray's face fell, and he looked slightly embarrassed, Sly quickly interjected with, "I was just kidding."

"R-right," the hippo agreed. Sometimes it was hard for Murray to realize that Sly was joking around with him, as the hippo was prone to taking certain things to heart. Especially matters of himself, or otherwise. Just then, Penelope came up the two, and quirked a brow at their manner of greeting each other.

"So, are you guys going to come in, or should I just close the door, and let Bentley and I enjoy those grilled cheese sandwiches?"

At this notion, Sly's eyes lit up, his ears perked up slightly, and his tail began to swish behind him in contentment. "No way, did you really make those Murray?"

"Of course," Murray puffed his chest out in pride, and thudded a large hand against it. "It wouldn't be a proper reunion if we didn't have them, right?"

Sly grinned. "Well, let's have at it then!"

Once Sly walked in, Murray shut the door, and watched as Penelope exchanged a hug with the much taller raccoon, and they began to chat about how certain aspects of their lives were going on. As much as Murray wanted to interrupt, and talk with Sly, he also felt like perhaps taking a step back would be best. After all, Murray wasn't exactly the best at keeping his motions subtle, and he wasn't very good at keeping up a thorough conversation like the other guys. However, his friend seemed to notice his absence, and he turned towards Murray.

"Hey big guy, I didn't come here just to talk with Penelope. Come on, I've missed you too buddy."

With that said, Murray's face brightened into one of pure glee, and he began to babble eagerly, which was fairly uncharacteristic of the hippo. He was probably the most excited about Sly coming to visit again, as he hadn't had the opportunity to see him like Bentley and Penelope had. As far as Murray could remember, they'd never been separated for more than a few days because of how close they were. Out of the three, perhaps Bentley and Sly talked together a lot more than Murray did with the other two, but that was perfectly fine with the hippo. He was, after all, a man of few words, and preferred to show his care for his friends through actions.

Murray was soon telling Sly about his excursions in Australia where he'd gone to finish his Dreamtime training with the Guru, and what he had been doing while living with Penelope and Bentley. He even went as far as to take Sly out to the garage, and show off his newly revamped van.

After that was all said, and done, they were all going into the kitchen to finally eat the dinner Murray had made. Much to Penelope's chagrin, her salad went nearly untouched, but even she had to admit that it paled in comparison to Murray's grilled cheese sandwiches.

"I really missed eating these," Sly sighed after they'd just eaten. He leaned back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He looked extremely pleased, and full, which was saying something as the raccoon tended to eat a lot. "I tried to make them once, but they came out looking, and tasting more like burnt bricks."

They all laughed, until Murray said, "the secret is in the love you show them! Show them how much you care, and stuff."

Sly chuckled. "I'll be sure to show them care, and stuff then."

Still giggling, Penelope looked over on, as her boyfriend, Murray, and Sly all began speaking about anything that popped into mind. It was immensely gratifying to her, to see them getting along so well, and to hear how happy they were to finally be together again like old times. Bentley had told her many times, about how they all met at the orphanage, and how close they'd grown together. They were like brothers, which Penelope sometimes found herself feeling a bit envious of, as she'd been an only child to a rich businessman who'd barely had time for her. But, she realized that she could also a part of it as well, seeing as she was now living, and in an a relationship with Bentley. She only wondered when he'd finally pop the question.

Funnily, as soon as she thought of this matter over, and looked down at her bare ring finger, she felt eyes on her. Looking up, she saw that Sly had glanced over at her while Bentley was explaining something about his time machine. She went to open her mouth to ask what was wrong, but he shook his head ever so slightly, making Penelope snap her jaw shut.

_What was that about?_

All thoughts of interrogating Sly, went out the window, when he was the one to seek her out first.

While they were clearing the table away, Penelope, who was washing dishes, was suddenly prodded gently in the side by someone. Being ticklish, she giggled, and nearly dropped the plate she'd been washing, but turned to find herself staring up at Sly. He seemed almost shy, which had Penelope wondering what was wrong. Even Bentley, and Murray were looking over in curiosity, as they were drying, and putting dishes away.

"Penelope, do you mind if I talk to you for a moment?" he asked softly. It was as though he was trying his best to not let Murray, or Bentley hear, which was impossible as they were right beside them. The raccoon flushed slightly at this realization, but kept his brown eyes locked with Penelope's own.

She exchanged a small look with Bentley, whose brows furrowed slightly. He didn't say a word, which was odd, because the turtle was usually bound to speak his mind on certain matters. Even Murray was silent as he watched on. Nevertheless, Penelope nodded, wiped her paws off with a dry dishcloth, and hopped off the small footstool she'd been using to reach the sink.

Penelope followed the raccoon's tail, giving her boyfriend one last shrug when he watched them leave. She quickly mouthed, 'do you know what this might be about?'

The turtle shook his head in response, to which Penelope sighed, but soon refocused her attention to where Sly was taking her. He led her through the hallway of the apartment, to the door, and then outside. The mouse was unsure just what Sly wanted to discuss, but she followed regardless, and when the door shut behind him, Sly leaned against it, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"There's something I need your help with."

She cocked her head slightly, and tucked a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. For some reason, that look he'd been giving her before popped up in her mind, but she decided against asking to instead wait, and see if this was about something else. "With what?"

Sly blushed hotly, and looked away from the mouse, who continued to scrutinize him. The raccoon was certainly fidgety in her eyes, from the way he would fix his collar, or run his paw through his hair. His tail twitched every so often behind him, which probably wouldn't have said anything to her as it usually did, but because of his apparent nervousness, it screamed that something was up with the raccoon.

Penelope watched for a bit longer, and when he didn't answer, one of her brows rose in questioning. "Does this have to do with that look you gave me before?"

If it was possible, he blushed even more, which was saying something as his fur usually hid such things. "Kind of," he admitted.

Something suddenly clicked in her mind, to which the mouse wanted to kick herself for not figuring it out in the first place. "Are you trying to say you want to propose to someone? Namely, an Inspector named Carmelita Fox?"

He seemed affronted by the accusation, but the way he didn't want to lock eyes with her, told Penelope leaps, and bounds that this was exactly what he meant. The mouse started laughing, which earned another horrified look from the raccoon, until she finally sobered. "Sorry, but I was expecting something a bit more serious than this. Especially because you pulled me away from Bentley, and Murray."

"T-this is serious. And I didn't want Bentley, or Murray to know," Sly retorted, frowning. "It's kind of embarrassing."

At this, Penelope frowned, and she walked straight up to the raccoon, and poked him on the side, which was the only place she could reach. "No it's not Sly. Heck, you could have given Bentley a hint to do the same with me!"

Blinking at the sudden admission on Penelope's part, he chuckled softly, and scratched at the fur on the back of his neck. "I guess."

Her face softened, and she smiled. "But congratulations, Sly! I can't believe you want to take the next step with Carmelita. You must really love her."

Sly grinned as well. "Of course. I have for a while. But the real reason I called you out here, is because I need help picking out a ring..."

* * *

**Fun fact: 200, 000 Euros is about equivalent to $244, 000 US. **

**Phew, that was rather long, wasn't it? I'm sorry if this seemed like a lot of information thrown at you at once, haha. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed it, and u****ntil next chapter!**


	10. Crowd Control

**A wild update appears! **

**So, we've finally hit the double digits guys. Rather exciting. Usually when I get to around 10 chapters, the story is over, or I get unmotivated, and stop writing. And unfortunately (?), the latter seems to be occurring atm. I still do have the entire thing planned, but the drive to complete it is just starting to wind down a little bit.**

**I'm hopeful that I don't stop though, just because I wouldn't want to do that to the few people who still happen to be reading, and enjoying this, haha. And I did that enough with my old account. To make up for this, have an extra long chapter.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 10: Crowd Control

* * *

Sly stretched while suppressing a yawn, as he walked out into the dining room of Bentley's apartment. Normally, Sly wouldn't be up this early, but the savoury smell of bacon and eggs cooking had drawn him away from the comforts of the couch. As he came over, the raccoon saw his large hippo friend tipping a plateful of bacon onto a napkin to get rid of the grease.

"Morning," the raccoon called. He was still feeling groggy, so he hoped that a coffee, and some breakfast would wake him up. He only had an hour or so, before he had to be on his way to Interpol.

Murray looked up from his cooking, and gave his shorter friend a wide grin. "Morning, Sly! I'm making my famous scrambled eggs, and bacon! Think you can stick around, and eat some before you have to leave?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Sly grinned back, as he pulled out a chair, and sat himself on it. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to settle the tousled fur on top, but soon gave up on the endeavour. He was soon presented with a full plate of food, with at least 4 strips of bacon, and 2 eggs. It smelled amazing, the bacon being just the right type of crispiness, and the eggs looking nice and fluffy. Sly was soon shovelling the food into his mouth. He'd really had missed his friend's cooking, seeing as neither himself, nor Bentley had ever really learned how to cook properly. Ironically, Murray was more of a housekeeper than either of the other two.

Once he was done, Sly stretched again, and grinned. "That was great, Murray. You really need to teach me how to cook one day."

The robust hippo blushed, and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Geez, Sly. Hey, how about some time next week, I teach you how to make a good omelette? With cheese, and bacon, and peppers, and other delicious stuff."

"Sounds great, buddy." Another glance at his watch, had Sly sweeping his plates into the sink. "We'll plan those out later, but if I don't jet, I'm going to be late for work."

At this notion, Murray's face fell slightly, but he quickly recomposed himself into a wide smile. Sly felt his heart twitch at the fact that his friend was so affected by their no longer seeing each other everyday like before. But Sly had to remind himself, that things change; even though he had really hoped they wouldn't. The raccoon sighed. "I swear Murray, I'll try my best to see you guys more often, alright?"

He went forward, and patted his friend on the arm, one of the only places he could reach. Murray nodded, and then grinned again. Sly knew exactly what he was planning, and jumped away before the hippo could nab him into a bone crushing hug. The hippo ended up sweeping up a huge amount of air.

"Well, will you look at the time?" Sly exclaimed, grinning even Murray laughed. The raccoon walked over to the window, throwing it open so he could leave. Normally, Sly would have left out the door, and walked to Interpol, but after he'd caught another glance at his watch, he would be late if he walked on the streets. Before he jumped out, he turned back to say goodbye to Murray, but started slightly when he saw both Bentley and Penelope were awake because of the commotion. "Oh hey guys. Sorry I have to leave so suddenly, but I'm going to be late if I don't leave now."

Bentley nodded in understanding. "It's fine. We'll see you around, alright?"

Penelope smiled herself, and leaned her chin on Bentley's head, while throwing her arms around the turtle's shoulders. She looked sleepy, but Sly caught a certain amount of cheekiness in her large brown eyes. "Just make sure you call me whenever you want to go shopping."

Sly laughed, especially at seeing both Murray, and Bentley's confused looks. He decided to be cryptic, and keep his friends guessing on what Penelope meant. "I'll make sure to do that. I promise to help you find something that'll make Bentley _very_ happy."

At this notion, the turtle turned beet red, while Penelope started giggling madly. Murray's eyes widened slightly, and his mouth fell open. The turtle began to splutter, and turned to Penelope with his mouth agape. More laughter echoed from the raccoon, who simply shook his head at the display, and turned to leap out the window.

Before he did, he turned his head, and called back, "trust me Bentley. You'll like it."

With a wink, he was off, twisting in the air to grab onto a pipe a window over. He climbed up quickly, and leapt onto the roof. Looking at his watch again, he grimaced at seeing he only had about 15 minutes to get to Interpol. But Sly was confident he could do it. Dashing off, the raccoon was racing across the rooftops, the wind flying through his fur. It felt somehow relieving, and tension he hadn't known to possess in his muscles began to dissipate. The last time he had run across the rooftops like this, was nearly 8 months ago, back before he arrived at Kaine Island with his gang. Sly had truly missed this feeling.

He couldn't help the large grin that crossed his face, as he easily leaped across the rooftops, and racing across wires with ease. But all too soon, it was over, as he spotted the Interpol building looming up ahead. A quick decision had him sliding down a pipe on the side of an apartment building, and fixing his clothing. Sly quickly crossed the street, and walked into Interpol, acting as though he hadn't just run straight there.

He raced to his shared office, and stopped to look through the door's window, where he saw Carmelita was already busy with paperwork, hunched over her desk. Her brows were knitted together, and her paw furiously scribbled away. The grin on Sly's face faltered slightly, as he noticed that for some reason, the vixen looked extremely agitated about something.

"Morning, Carm," he said as he opened the door to the office.

She immediately whipped her head upwards, and demanded, "where were you?"

The raccoon froze where he was, and instinctively put his arms up. "You know I stayed home last night. What did I do?"

Carmelita barely let him get the question out, before she grabbed his wrist, and pulled him out of the office. Sly allowed himself to be pulled, looking completely bewildered to what was happening. She appeared nervous - almost _terrified _- about something as she lead him through the halls. Her tail twitched behind, and her hair seemed even messier than usual, as though she'd run her paws through it many times.

"Carm, what's going on?" he asked. The raccoon stiffened at seeing where she was taking him, considering that he'd seen this place a few times before when he'd been asked to come in and ask Yorath's men about their employer. She was taking him to the interrogation rooms, located in the lower belly of Interpol.

"Something's come up, and," she paused here, as her voice shook slightly, "you're going to be interrogated. About what I don't know, but Sly…" Here, she stopped, Sly just barely managing to stop himself from running into her. Carmelita's brown eyes were wide, and it seemed to him, as though the vixen were seeing him differently. It made the fur on the back of his neck stand up.

"I just… hope that you'll be okay."

"Carm-"

A shake of her head, and Carmelita let his wrist go. She gently pushed him towards the room where he was apparently going to be interrogated. Sly's ears flattened slightly, and his tail began to twitch just as nervously as Carmelita's was.

"They're waiting inside," she murmured softly. She looked up at him, shook her head again, and dashed off, leaving the raccoon alone. He watched her figure disappear behind a corner. Sly was frozen where he was, taken aback by the sudden upheaval. He could have sworn he'd seen _tears_ in Carmelita's eyes, but he wasn't sure why she would be crying. Was she scared for him? Or was it something else entirely? He ran a paw through his hair, and glanced at the door currently separating him from this supposed interrogation.

_What the hell is happening?_

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Sly strode forward, and opened the door.

Walking into the interrogation room, Sly had expected - at the most - one or two officers; Inspectors at the very least, perhaps ones he didn't know very well, so that they wouldn't let personal emotions get in the way of something of this calibre. What he didn't expect, was to walk in on both Chief Barkley, and Commissioner Arks sitting across a metal table with files, and the like laid out in front of them. A tape recorder was also included in the items present, placed right in the middle of the table.

Sly froze at the door, his paw holding onto the doorknob now tightening like a vice. He was surprised he didn't hear the groaning of metal under his paw, so hard he was gripping onto it.

"Morning, Cooper," Barkley said in a grave voice, not at all helping Sly's already shaken nerves. "Take a seat, and we'll get started."

Being as good as he'd been while working as a thief, Sly had never been caught by the police (without his consent of course), so he had no clue on how these interrogations would go. He'd seen enough TV dramas to have an idea how it might go down, but he also knew that this wasn't going to be case. Nothing was scripted here, and if he said one word out of line, Sly couldn't go back and ask to re-shoot the scene again; and that was enough to make sweat bead under his fur.

"Have a seat, Constable," Isaac said, using his paw to gesture to the empty seat across the table. The ever present smile that usually accompanied the coyote's demeanour was missing, making a shiver run up Sly's spine. The effect was eerie enough to make Sly wish that the smile was back.

Silently, Sly slunk into the room, shut the door, and sat himself into the straight backed chair. Several long florescent lights were the only source of light in the small, and cramped room. The walls, ceiling, and floors were all painted in a dark slate, emulating a tomb of sorts to the former thief. Everything was still in the room, with the only source of noise coming from the large clock hung right above a large mirror taking up an entire wall on the left. Sly eyed the mirror, knowing that there were probably people on the other side of it, but he tried his best to ignore it, and refocus on the task at hand.

Both the Chief and Commissioner were watching him closely, regarding any slip in his demeanour, to which the raccoon immediately steadied his slightly shaking paws on the table.

He offered them a shaky smile, but neither of them returned it. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. After a moment of silence fell over them, Barkley cleared his throat, and sat up straighter in his seat. "Well Cooper, as you were probably told before, this is a serious interrogation, and is not in any way, a joke. So get that into your head before we start asking you questions."

Sly resisted the urge to swallow a lump in his throat, and instead opted to just nod his head in understanding. Once that was done, Barkley nodded himself, and leaned back in his chair to glance over at the Commissioner.

Isaac pushed his glasses up on his nose, his eyes disappearing for a second behind his lenses. "Alright, Constable. I'm sure you know what this is, correct?"

He pushed an innocent looking file across to Sly, who took it in his paws. The folder was something he recognized instantly, as the file that was given to him soon after he was accepted to Interpol. His name was stamped in black on the very top, along with a picture of himself that had been doctored to show Sly in an Interpol uniform. Inside, were a number of documents, mostly all forged so that Sly would believe he'd been working for Interpol for the past few years. No one would look at it twice, and think the files, or official documents were falsified in any way.

"Yes sir," Sly answered, licking his lips. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton balls, his throat dry, and scratchy. When he looked up at the two authority figures, it was to find them both staring intently at him. Sly figured this was all a ruse to done by the cops to get confessions out of people; but he couldn't deny it was rather effective. The feeling of being a specimen observed under a microscope, was more than enough to make any sane person snap. "I'd recognize it anywhere."

The Commissioner's glasses flashed again; this time Sly was able to catch a glimpse of amber, along with a slight smile. "I would certainly hope so, Constable."

He looked over to Barkley, who pushed another folder over to Sly, this one a lot fatter than the one the raccoon currently held. This was another one that Sly recognized instantly, but kept his façade up to assume that he didn't. He made no move to take it in paw, however.

"This would be a file we copied from an original that was stolen a few years ago," Commissioner Arks explained. "In it, describes what little information we know about a certain thief, named Sylvester Raccoon, who terrorized many countries with robberies for a few years, before he disappeared into obscurity."

Again, the coyote was watching Sly closely for any form of reaction. The former thief remained stoic, internally congratulating himself for not letting anything slip that he recognized any of the information being fed to him.

After a while, Isaac sighed, and said, "I want you to read through the information we have, if you'd please."

Unable to deny what the Commissioner wanted, Sly took the file in his shaky paws, and flipped it open, ignoring the name stamped on the front. This was the very same file - well, a copy of it anyway - that he had stolen all those years ago from Carmelita's office. Having read it over, and over when he was 18, Sly knew the entire thing off by heart, but he made a show of it, skimming through the information laid out on paper. From what he could tell, everything was exactly the same, with the exception that his name was altered to Sylvester Raccoon. The few pictures that they'd managed to capture of him, were all grainy, dull, and dark. There were barely any form of detail that one could discern from the horrible pictures, but Sly could make out his cane always clutched in his paw. Information inside was scarce, such as his date of birth, full name, his father's name, and species; but even those were labelled as inaccurate. The only real information inside, was of the robberies he'd committed, and some information about the Fiendish Five that Sly knew all about.

Swallowing another lump in his throat, Sly gave his best confused looking expression as he read it over. Once he was done, he looked up at both Barkley, and Commissioner Arks. "Why are you showing me this?"

Barkley was the one to speak up this time. "Did you recognize any of the information inside? Such as locations, or the items taken?"

"No sir," Sly immediately denied, cursing himself for answering so quickly. But if it was noticed by them, neither made any notion to it.

Barkley gave a grunt of affirmation, while the Commissioner nodded silently. "I'm sorry to say, that the pictures aren't the best in those files, considering that said thief managed to steal our original file. The photos there are ones we had to take afterwards, and let's say… He was much better at avoiding us at that point."

Sly suppressed a grimace. "Commissioner, what does this have to do with the interrogation?" _I hope you haven't found out about my faking amnesia, _he added silently to himself.

Commissioner Arks didn't answer straight away, instead exchanging another look with Barkley. Again, the old badger was the one to cut in.

"It has everything to do with this interrogation, Cooper," he said gravely. He leafed through the files still in front of them, and tossed another one at Sly, who stopped it from sliding off the table with his paw. "That there, is the information we gathered from the Louvre over 4 months ago, where the _Star of India _was stolen."

"I remember this," Sly muttered softly. His brows furrowed together, as he opened the file, and read through the information, and photos inside. It was fairly basic, most of it containing very clear photos of broken glass, and possible entry points; one even contained an upturned potted fern. What really caught Sly's attention however, was the photo of the empty glass case, where the _Star of India _had been presented. Well, at least it was _supposed _to be empty.

His paws shook even more as he stared down at a clear photograph of his calling card, sitting right in the middle of the velvet pillow. Licking his lips again, Sly asked in a cracked voice, "this the same calling card that's in the files of the thief."

"The very same," Commissioner Arks spoke up. He leaned forward a bit more, his paws folded underneath his chin as his eyes held no light of stopping their scrutiny of the raccoon. "As you can probably remember from Sylvester Raccoon's file, he disappeared not more than about a year ago. For a long while, Interpol thought he was done thieving."

"But, it seems like he's back," Barkley added his own point. The badger sighed, and scrubbed a paw through the fur on his chin. "And it's the only lead we have to this case."

"At the Louvre?" Sly asked again, still clearly shell-shocked from the photo still laid out in front of him.

"The Louvre, yes," Commissioner responded. Pulling out another file from underneath his elbow, he pushed it across to Sly, who took it cautiously. "And at this location."

Sly flipped the file open again, and was once again treated to a plethora of photographs, and location information. This one was pertaining to the _Musée Guimet_ where, from what Sly could see, a number of Asian art had been stolen. And once again, the raccoon saw his calling card stuck to various places in the museum. Sweat was starting to now fall down his face, but he made no move to wipe it away, and instead looked up to see that his superiors were staring at him again.

"What… does this have to do with me?" Sly finally managed to ask, after clearing his throat, and steadying his voice.

Both Barkley, and Isaac seemed to be prepared for this.

Commissioner Arks tapped Sly's thieving file with a finger. "What Intel we've managed to gather at the crime scenes thus far, all points to Sylvester Raccoon to being the thief. However, we've run across a few snags, one of those being that there was evidence of your fingerprints being found at the scene last night."

Sly stiffened immediately at hearing this. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me, Constable," Commissioner Arks sighed. "If it wasn't for the fact that your fingerprints weren't at the scene, we would have initially thought this was the work of the thief. But with this new information, we've had to completely rethink this entire endeavour. Until we can clear your name, Constable Cooper, you are a prime suspect in this case."

Unable to say a word, Sly continued to stare at the Commissioner, with wide eyes, and an opened mouth. His thoughts were spinning out of control, and he suddenly felt like he was caught in a car crash, forced to watch every detail happen. His paws tightened across the files, crinkling the paper underneath his fingers. "Commissioner, I don't understand. I can tell you that I wasn't the one who stole this art."

He put the file down now, and resisted the urge to pound his fist into it. Now his fear was turning into anger, as Sly realized that this was wholly unfair, considering he hadn't put a single toe out of line throughout the entire time he'd been at Interpol. But now it seemed as though someone out there was trying to ruin what he'd been working so hard to build.

"Be as that may be, Cooper," Barkley exhaled, his brows knitting together. "At this point in time, we have no other information to go on. The unfortunate case being, that you are a prime suspect in this case, and unless you have a solid alibi, Commissioner Arks, and I will be forced to arrest you."

Commissioner Arks reached over, and ejected the tape from the recorder, making Sly jump. Once he'd pushed another tape in, and pressed the record button again, the coyote said, "please proceed to tell us what you were doing last night, around 12 AM, Constable."

Sly steadied himself as best as he could. "Last night… I was home the entire night. I watched a movie until 12 AM, and went to bed soon after. The _Musée Guimet _is at least an hour's drive from my apartment, so there's no way I could have gotten there, and back to my apartment before the robbery occurred. That, and I don't own a car."

The coyote nodded, and looked over to Barkley, who looked fairly unconvinced with Sly's explanation. "Is there anyone we can contact to confirm you were in your apartment the entire night?"

Wincing, Sly slowly nodded, quickly coming up with something. "One of my neighbours - Kevin Michaels - can tell you I never stepped foot out of my apartment." Sly knew he was taking a risk with this, considering he'd left his apartment through the front door. He sincerely hoped that his neighbour wouldn't say anything otherwise, or better yet, didn't see anything at all.

He saw the both interrogators exchange looks, to which Sly took a chance to steal another glance at the pictures before him. His calling card was clear as day on the pedestal, and varying other locations. No one else would use those, except himself, but Sly also knew that it was incredibly easy to fold a piece of card into the likeness of the blue, and white raccoon head. It was obvious someone was framing him, but what was really bothering him, was that his finger prints were found at the scenes. There was no way anybody but a professional would be able to lift his prints off something, and use it against him. Either, they had taken it off several places Sly had actually gone to, his apartment itself, or someone had taken the prints from the database at Interpol. Before he could be fully accepted, Sly had been required to give his fingerprints again, on the claims that his files were outdated. Of course, Sly had provided them without question, but now it seemed as though someone was using them to frame him.

"Cooper!"

Sly nearly jumped out of his fur. His head whipped upwards, to see both Barkley, and the Commissioner staring at him. The old badger cleared his throat, and pointed a finger to the door. "We're done here, so you can go now, Cooper. But keep in mind, that even with your alibi in place, you're going to be closely watched from now on. It's just a precaution, so we can cover all the bases before we officially say that you're clear of any suspicion."

Nodding mutely, Sly stood, willing his legs that now felt like jelly to support him. He was about to walk out the door, but paused with his paw on the doorknob. "Commissioner?"

Said coyote looked up from pulling the tape out from the recorder. "Yes, Constable?"

"Was there any other evidence, besides my fingerprints, and the calling card found at the scenes?"

"No, Constable Cooper. No other evidence was found."

Sly nodded slowly, and looked back to see Commissioner's Arks' bright, amber eyes boring into his. Shivering slightly, Sly said a quick thanks, and slipped back out the door.

As soon as he was outside, he let out a shaky sigh, trying his best to seem like everything was okay. The reality was, that Sly was not okay in the least. Now knowing just what had caused a sudden influx in guarded actions a scant 4 months ago, the raccoon knew things were starting to get dangerous at the precinct. And not just because of his past.

_Who could be framing me? _He stopped walking, and leaned against a wall, his eyes unfocused on a spot on the wall. There was really only one person who came to mind, but Sly had to admit, he didn't think Bordeaux would have the resources, nor the ability to pull this off. The canine did have the drive for it, but Sly was willing to give Bordeaux the benefit of the doubt here. Another sigh escaped him, as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on, and restarted his walk to Carmelita's office. Instantly, he started to wonder if perhaps she had said anything to the Commissioner or Chief, but he pushed it out of his mind. Carmelita was one of the few he could trust, and he didn't want to believe that she didn't trust him back.

For a moment, he had the fleeting thought of asking Bentley if there was anything he could research to find out if there were really impostors trying to frame him. But soon enough, he shook his head. There was no way he could pull Bentley, or Murray back into this again, and not just because it would confirm to Interpol that he never lost his memories. No, Sly had no intention of running them for a solution to his problem, seeing as the two now had normal lives. Sly couldn't take that away.

This was a problem he had to deal with on his own.

Because of his wandering thoughts, Sly wasn't watching where he was going, and bumped into the last person he wanted to see at that point in time. Looking up, he mentally groaned to see the oldest Bordeaux brother glaring down at him.

"What do you want?" Sly muttered, not at all in the mood to deal with the infuriating canine.

"I heard what happened," sneered Bordeaux. He crossed his arms across his chest, looking extremely pleased for some reason; it made Sly's frown deepen. "How does it feel to know that Commissioner Arks _or_ Chief Barkley don't trust you anymore?"

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Sly said, "I don't think it's your business to know what happened. Now, get out of my way so I can get back to work."

"You think that everybody here doesn't already know?" the canine's grin grew even wider, his amber eyes holding back the pleasure he felt at knowing that Sly was in trouble with the Commissioner, and Chief. "All of us know you're just a lying scumbag, and pretty soon, Commissioner Arks will know it too. And when that happens, you'll be in jail, and nobody will think twice about bailing you out."

The raccoon's teeth began to clench together, his fur standing up on the back of his neck. He knew it was true too. If he was unable to convince Commissioner Arks, or Chief Barkley, than he'd be thrown in jail without any chance of getting out. So far, Sly seemed to have done a good enough job, but he also knew that his alibi was rather flimsy. Somehow, Sly had to find a way to make sure that he exposed whoever it was that was framing him for these robberies.

"Keep in mind," Bordeaux snarled, bringing Sly back down to reality, "that no one here believes you're telling the truth at all." The taller man pointed a finger straight at Sly, jabbing him forcefully in the chest.

A growl rumbled in Sly's throat, but he immediately forced himself to quiet it. Brawling with Bordeaux in the middle of Interpol would _not_ help his chances in making himself look good for the Commissioner, and Chief. If anything, it would just convince them that he was unable to deal with his emotions, and could possibly lead them to believe that he was lying, and had gone back to thieving. Sure, it was a pretty far fetched idea, but Sly didn't want to risk anything.

He took a deep breath, and steadied himself, before saying, "well, that's just your opinion. I know I'm innocent, and if the Commissioner, and Chief want to believe me, then they can. Nothing you say is going to change that."

Sly went to walk around the taller man, but a paw latched itself onto his upper arm. This time, the raccoon was unable to mask his growl. Both of them glared at one another, neither saying a thing, until Sly ground out, "don't think you can intimidate me. Now let me go."

A sinister sounding chuckle escaped Bordeaux. "I'm warning you now, that nobody here is going to back you up when all your lies are exposed. I'm going to make sure of it."

With that said, he let Sly's arm go roughly, and turned to stalk down the hallway.

Sly's brown eyes glared daggers at the canine's back, until Bordeaux disappeared behind a corner. Once he was gone from sight, Sly shook his head in irritation, and started towards his shared office again. However, something else stopped him in the form of his phone suddenly vibrating in his pocket. He paused, and pulled out the phone, his brows knitting together when he read the name.

It was just a message though, so Sly flicked his phone opened, and quickly opened it. Surprised, he found a rather curt message from Bentley, which also managed to get a chuckle out of the raccoon. It read:

_Why didn't you tell me you were proposing to Inspector Fox?_

Chuckling softly, Sly looked around for a moment, and then ducked into the bathroom that was nearby. After he was sure the door was locked, Sly sat down one of the empty toilets, and quickly wrote another message back to Bentley, this one a bit longer than usual.

_Sorry I didn't get a chance to tell you last night. Don't be too mad now; don't want you bursting a blood vessel. Anyway, look pal, something's come up here at Interpol, and I can't meet up with you guys anymore. I'm real sorry, but if I don't want to get into trouble here, I'm going to have to break all contact with you, and the gang. Trust me, I don't want to do this anymore than you want to hear it, but unless I want everyone to find out about my faking amnesia, then I need to cut off all ties with you guys._

_I'm sorry._

_Oh, but before I forget. Why don't you pop the question to Penelope too? I think she's waiting for that ring, and you don't want her running off with Dimitri, do you? Anyway, Bentley… I'll miss you guys a lot, and tell Murray I'm sorry I won't be able to learn any cooking tips from him. Those grilled cheese sandwiches, and his bacon and eggs were delicious. Tell the big lug I appreciate it._

_Don't respond to this message when you get it. _

_-Sly_

His finger hovered over the send button. Sly read, and reread the message for what seemed like hours, until he finally sighed softly, and pressed the button. He watched as the phone beeped, and proclaimed the message had been sent. After that was all said and done, Sly felt like he had taken the coward's way out by not physically calling Bentley, and telling him the situation.

But at the same time, his stomach plummeted at knowing that this was truly it. Sly would no longer be able to call Bentley up, and plan some sort of get together. Of course, when they did meet up, it was very scarce, considering he'd only seen the gang a grand total of 3 times since he'd started working at Interpol. But at least, he'd had the knowledge of knowing that he could call, or send Bentley a message whenever he pleased. Now though…

Shaking his head, the raccoon went through his phone's history, running across the few handful of messages he'd exchanged with Bentley throughout the months. Each one was usually scarce, and not worth saving, and yet Sly hadn't deleted a single one. It was mostly due to the fact that he felt like doing so would be like trying to erase his past completely from the picture, and he couldn't do that to his brothers. With another sigh, and his ears flattening slightly, Sly began the arduous task of deleting each message from his phone. Unfortunately, it didn't get any easier the longer he went. Finally, after an excruciating 10 minutes of stalling, the former thief had finally rid his phone of the messages sent by his friend.

This was much harder than he thought it would be.

Sly had always had the image in his head, that he would be able to continue being with Carmelita, eventually ask her to marry him, and then tell her about his faked amnesia. The image of her possibly being angry at him had always been a constant smear in his daydreams, but Sly knew that if Carmelita didn't love him as much as he loved her, than she wouldn't have lied to him too. And he knew, that she would eventually forgive him, and marry him. Once that happened, Sly would then be able to see Bentley, Murray, and Penelope - and maybe even the other guys - as much as he wanted, without the fear of ruining what he had with Carmelita.

But now, everything had gone to shit.

Tears of frustration, and sadness pricked at the corners of Sly's eyes, which he hastily wiped away. He sat where he was for a moment, to try and calm himself down. His phone suddenly vibrated in his paw, making him jump so much, that he nearly dropped the damn thing. Flipping it open again, he was a little shocked to see another message from Bentley on his phone.

A tiny smile tugged at his lips, as he realized that Bentley had outright ignored what the raccoon had said about not replying to the message. Quickly, so as to not rouse anymore suspicion to why he was taking so long in the bathroom, Sly opened the message, and read what had been sent.

_I know you said not to reply to your last message, but I couldn't let it go like that. Anyway, I'm not going to ask what's going on at Interpol, but all of us understand the risks that came with your charade. I've told Murray, and he's a little upset, but he promises that when whatever's going on at Interpol blows over, he'll teach you a few cooking tricks, so you can impress Inspector Fox._

_Also, I don't think you should be giving me advice on my love life, Sly, considering what you're doing at the moment._

He paused in his reading to chuckle softly at what was said, before continuing.

_But it's not like you've ever listened to me. Thanks for the advice though, and maybe next time we see each other, both of our girls will have a ring on their hand. Maybe even Murray will have someone to show off to you. Regardless, this isn't goodbye, and we all know it. So it's better to say…_

"_Until next time, Peking Duck."_

_- Bentley, Penelope, and Murray _

After reading through the entire message, Sly shook his head. His throat tightened suddenly, as he reread it again. But unable to delay the inevitable, Sly deleted the very last message from Bentley. Once he'd done that, he scoured his address book in the phone, and quickly highlighted Bentley's name. Again, hesitation made him freeze where he was. His thumb hovered over the button that would erase Bentley's number from his phone, and although he knew it would be easy to get it again whenever he wanted to, Sly understood what he was doing was significant.

Was the relationship he had with his brothers, the two who had stuck with him through thick and thin over the course of 13 years, worth sacrificing so he could be with the love of his life?

He didn't have the answer to the question.

With a heavy heart, Sly pressed his thumb down, and deleted Bentley's number from his cell phone.

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Barkley asked with a heavy tone to his voice. He instantly started to light up a cigar in order to ease his nerves, and exhaled a plume of smoke, before gazing imploringly at the Commissioner.

The handsome coyote continued to stare at a point on the table, with a slight frown on his lips. Finally, he managed to say, "I'm not exactly sure, Barkley. But he seems to be telling the truth here. I saw no deception in him."

At this, Barkley quirked a brow, and his moustache bristled slightly. "You seem to have missed the points when he seemed to freeze up seeing his old thieving file. And as far as we can tell, his alibi is full of holes. Even if we check with his neighbour, there's no guarantee that we'll get anything from it."

"You're starting to sound like the others who doubt Constable Cooper," Isaac sighed. He took off his glasses, and kneaded at a spot between his eyes where a headache seemed to be forming. "Regardless, I do think we have a few more things to consider. At this point in time, the only evidence we have on these robbery cases are Sly Cooper's calling cards. Something that anyone could easily replicate if they wanted to."

Silence fell over the two authority figures, as both retreated into their thoughts. Barkley felt a bit uneasy to think that the Commissioner was continuing to come up with excuses in order not to arrest, and throw Sly Cooper in jail. To the Chief, it was as though Isaac Arks was stalling for something, or perhaps even trying to protect the raccoon. It raised red flags in the badger's mind, but he eventually decided against voicing his rebuttals. After all, he did trust the younger coyote, and knew that perhaps there was something more to this case he wasn't quite yet seeing; but doubts continued to slither through his thoughts like snakes.

"Why did you lie to him?" Barkley finally asked, unable to handle the silence.

"Whatever do you mean?"

The badger shot an incredulous look at the coyote at his side. "You know exactly what I mean, Isaac." Barkley had now dropped formalities, referring to the younger man by his first name. Commissioner Arks' brows rose at this, even as Barkley continued to speak. "There hasn't been any type of fingerprints found at the scenes, and you know it. You're lucky Cooper didn't call you out on that bluff."

_Either Cooper's acting the fool, or you're in on something here, _Barkley added silently to himself.

"It was merely a warning of sorts," Isaac said with a slight smile. Seeing that the old badger was not at all amused by this statement, he sighed. "Barkley, you, and I both know, that if Cooper were to find out that we're all lying to him so that he continues to be a cop, that he may very well go back to thieving. Most others may not think his amnesia is real, but if it is and we expose his past, then we're simply giving him the tools to go back."

A rough sounding grunt escaped Barkley. "Maybe, but I don't really approve of you lying, and altering his file like this."

With this notion, Isaac rounded on the badger, with a hard look in his amber eyes. The sudden action caused Barkley to frown.

"You, and I both know that it's not just myself lying to Cooper. The entire precinct is on it, including yourself, _Howard_," the coyote nearly spat Barkley's name out. The police Chief's white moustache bristled again, at being spoken so harshly by a man nearly 25 years his junior, but was unable to get a word in before Isaac continued to speak. "You've told me time, and time again, that you're placing your trust in me. And although you might not agree with everything I do, I wouldn't expect you to distrust me so easily. Everything I'm doing, is to ensure the best for Interpol, and if it means having to dirty my paws every once in a while, so be it. From what I see, you're unwilling to do the same."

Isaac stood to his full height, his eyes still boring holes into Barkley.

Barkley remained silent, letting what his superior had just said sink in. Honestly, the badger did trust Isaac fully, to the point where he would blindly follow the coyote in any endeavour he did. Hell, he was already foolishly agreeing with what Isaac was doing in regards to Cooper in Interpol. Finally, he sighed, and said, "I'm sorry if my doubts are clouding my judgement here. I do trust you, Commissioner, but you have to admit, what you're doing is a bit suspicious."

Shaking his head, the Commissioner gathered the files in paw, before saying, "perhaps, Barkley, but at the same time, I'm only doing this for one reason."

When he didn't elaborate, Barkley turned to the Commissioner. "Which is?"

Isaac fixed the shorter man with a steady look. "I'd rather keep that information to myself."

Once he said this, Isaac gathered the recorder, and tape in paw, and left the old badger alone in the interrogation room without another word.

The silence in the room was suffocating after the door closed behind the coyote. Barkley ran a paw across his face, heaving a loud sigh into the silent room. Everything was going to shit, and the old badger was not happy about it in the least. As much as he wanted to believe that all their problems with Sly Cooper as a thief had disappeared, it seemed as though the past couldn't just be swept under the rug. And although Barkley wanted to believe what the Commissioner was doing, was because he was trying to do what was best for Interpol, he couldn't shake off the uneasiness that came with believing he was wrong.

Eventually, Barkley shook his head, and decided against voicing any of this to anyone else. He was going to trust Isaac Arks one last time. As he walked to the door, and opened it, he thought grimly to himself, _I just hope you don't make me regret trusting you, Commissioner._

* * *

**Hmmm… Just what could all this be? **


	11. Master Thief Mode

**Hey look, an update. This chapter gave me a huge headache in terms of how I wanted it all to pan out, and although I'm still not overly satisfied with how it turned out, I'm just going to go ahead and post it so that you guys aren't waiting for any longer, haha. I'll just pretend this chapter never happened. Anyway, this is a lot longer than usual, so be prepared.**

**Also, as some may have realized - yes - the story is now starting to move forward. And it only took me 11 chapters to get here. How exciting. Anyway, enjoy the next instalment. Just a quick thank you to the support I've received, and the general outcries to not abandon this story, haha. Honestly, it if it **does** happen, feel free to kick me or something, until I start it up again.**

**Onwards then.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 11: Master Thief Mode

* * *

Muffled creaks resonating from the hardwood floors had Bentley wincing, as he carefully tried to wheel himself out into the hallway. A quick glance back, saw him watching Penelope, as she groaned sleepily, and shifted positions on the bed. With bated breath, he waited until she turned onto her side with her back facing the door, and fell silent. Once he was sure she was still asleep, Bentley began wheeling himself into the hallway. It was nearly 3 AM, and although he had a job to get to in a few hours, he couldn't sleep. He had no clue what he was going to do for the next few hours, but he figured perhaps losing himself in that time machine project he and Penelope were working on, might allow his thoughts to stop their frantic calls.

Bentley's eyes felt gritty, and heavy, as though weights were being pulled down on his eyelids, while his body felt lethargic and stiff. It was with a bit of difficulty that he was currently using his hands to roll the wheels on his wheelchair forward. Yet despite all this, his mind was running at full pelt, his thoughts whirling around his head. This was enough to keep the disabled turtle from getting a full nights rest. Normally, he was a pretty deep sleeper, but ever since he'd first received that text from Sly, he'd found himself unable to rest properly. That had been about a week ago, and Bentley had yet to try and contact Sly again.

Despite the fact that he really wanted to - mostly just to sate his own desires to know what was happening - Bentley figured taking a step back might be best. If Sly was truthful in the fact that something was going on at Interpol, the turtle wasn't going to allow his own curiosity get his friend into worse trouble.

Regardless, Bentley really wished he would've had some sort of closure in the situation.

There was a subdued noise from the kitchen, what sounded like glass on wood. Bentley blinked when he noticed that a light was turned on in the kitchen. How he hadn't noticed it before, he'd never know, but he wheeled himself carefully forward anyway, just to check that nobody had snuck into the apartment.

Unconsciously, he fingered a small button on the side of his wheelchair, that would emit a smoke screen for him to get Murray, and Penelope out if there was any danger. Better to be safe than sorry, Bentley always said.

However, he relaxed when he went into the kitchen, and saw that it was only Murray. The large hippo was currently seated on a chair, a small plate of what looked like cookies on the table in front of him, and a large mug of steaming milk in his hand.

Murray turned his head upwards, and grinned tiredly at his friend.

"What are you doing up?" he asked quietly, certainly uncharacteristic of the hippo; Bentley wasn't sure if he was keeping his voice down for the still sleeping Penelope, or if it was something else entirely.

"Couldn't sleep," Bentley dismissed easily. He went to the fridge himself, and took out the carton of milk. He then wheeled to one of the bottom cabinets where Penelope had placed a few cups and plates, to make them easier for the turtle to get to. "What about you?"

"Same," Murray sighed. He gulped a large mouthful of warm milk, before saying, "I'm just thinking about what happened."

The admittance granted Bentley the privilege of finally voicing his own thoughts out loud. He had abstained from doing so for the past week, because he wasn't sure if either Penelope or Murray were feeling the same way as he was. There was a pause in their words, as Bentley poured himself a mug of milk, and set the carton back in the fridge. "I am too."

"You don't think it's anything _too_ serious, right? Maybe Sly's just pulling a prank on us." Murray's large brown eyes were imploring, eager to have someone dissuade his own doubts, and worries away. But Bentley was never really good at being able to wave away his own worries, much less any one else's. But he decided to try his best, and not make the situation any worse. The turtle exhaled softly, rubbing a hand across his tired eyes.

"I'm not sure, Murray. But I know Sly will fix whatever problems are going on, and before you know it, we'll be hanging out again. Trust me, Murray. He wouldn't just abandon us."

_How do you know that for sure? _whispered a nasty little voice in the back of Bentley's mind. He quickly shoved it aside, not allowing himself to fall back into those thoughts from just a little over 6 months ago, back during the Kaine Island heist. The pink hippo nodded slowly, but there was still worry in his eyes. Silence fell over them, as they both took pulls from their mugs of milk, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Murray cleared his throat carefully.

"You know buddy, I-I've been thinking," he admitted, looking anywhere but in Bentley's general direction. Said turtle studied his friend for a moment.

"About what?"

Murray looked slightly flustered, the pink skin on his cheeks darkening as he struggled to get his words out. Bentley waited patiently for his friend to say whatever he wanted to say. He knew that Murray had never been much of a talker, and whenever he tried to do so, he was very careful with his words.

Soon enough, Murray swallowed loudly, and said, "I've been thinking of leaving for a bit."

Bentley had just been taking another drink of his milk, when Murray's words caused him to choke and splutter. He coughed, trying to suppress the sound so that he wouldn't wake Penelope in the other room. Murray's large hand pounding as softly as it could against the turtle's shelled back, until he managed to recover.

_People need to stop doing that, before I choke myself to death, _the wheelchair bound turtle groused silently to himself, remembering all the other times that he'd received unexpected news when drinking. Still feeling a bit of a tickle in the back of his throat, Bentley managed to squeak out, "_w-what?_"

There was a sheepish grin of apology on Murray's face, but when he realized that his much shorter friend had recovered from the shock, his face fell. "Well, yeah. I-I don't have much to do here anymore, because you and Penelope are working… And now Sly can't see us. And I figured, maybe I can do something I want to do. Like race the van or something."

Feeling a though this had already been on Murray's mind for a long time, Bentley bit down on his tongue to stop himself from saying anything. He felt like asking the hippo why he was eager to leave, especially after they'd effectively already lost Sly to Interpol; figuratively anyway. It was now two hard blows to Bentley's psyche, and he wasn't exactly ecstatic about it. Yes, Murray hadn't been able to do anything he wanted, because he'd been eagerly awaiting for a reunion with Sly, and yes, Bentley had noticed that his hippo friend had been a bit unhappy. Now with the fact that Sly could no longer see them, Murray had taken it hard, and it was obvious that he'd had enough of it.

Bentley sighed, and pulled his glasses off to rub his eyes again. This was all too much. However, Murray was watching, and bit his lip.

"Sorry I brought this up so suddenly," he apologized quickly.

"No, it's fine," the turtle sighed again. He placed his glasses back on his nose, and looked up to Murray, seeing the unbridled guilt in the brown eyes. "But I understand. It's a bit unfair to ask you stay here for my own selfish reasons. Because losing two brothers in the same week is a little hard."

A weak smile pulled at Bentley's lips to show that he wasn't trying to further guilt Murray for his decision to leave. Nodding slowly, Murray still looked incredibly unsure of the situation.

"So… you're not mad at me?"

"I could never be mad at you, Murray," Bentley assured. They exchanged a hug, the turtle grunting slightly when Murray squeezed a bit tighter than he should have. But he allowed his friend to do what he wished, as he could feel the slight tremble in the hippo's arms and back. Bentley gently patted a hand on Murray's back, lost in thought. This was hard - much harder than it should have been. Ever since they'd been children, the three had vowed to always do everything together, and to never stray from one another. They'd even gone as far as to do a blood pact, the thin, barely noticeable scars on their hands and paw, a constant reminder of that. Sly - of course - had been the one to suggest it, but Bentley and Murray had gone along with it, because none of them had anything to lose from doing something like that. The fact remained, the trio was alone in the world. They had no parents, no people they could look up to, nobody they could depend on. When they'd first left the orphanage at the age of 16, and had then gone after the Fiendish Five, it had further solidified their bond. They each stuck their neck out for one another, sacrificing almost anything they had in order to help each other.

But now, they were slowly drifting apart. Perhaps Bentley was being a bit dramatic, but the sudden turn of events had affected them all horribly. Murray was upset but - rather unsuccessfully - tried to hide it from either of them, Penelope herself was quieter than usual, also clearly upset, and Bentley himself felt depressed, and worries. He couldn't quite imagine how Sly must be feeling at that moment.

His throat tightened suddenly as these thoughts whirled in his mind, but quickly swallowed the painful lump in his throat to keep himself from shedding any tears. Soon enough, Murray pulled away from the hug, sniffling slightly.

He offered his turtle friend a watery smile, and said, "thanks Bentley."

"It's fine," Bentley nodded himself. His voice sounded oddly tight, but he fought back the urge to let loose those emotions. So he swallowed the large lump in his throat before speaking again. "I'll support whatever it is that you want to do, Murray. But it's late, so we should probably go to sleep."

With an eager nod of his head, Murray's spirits appeared to have lifted at the acceptance of his decision; ironically, Bentley couldn't have felt any worse. The hippo, seemingly oblivious to Bentley's depressing emotions, chugged the last of his milk down, and placed the mug in the sink. He went to leave, but stopped when his wheelchair bound friend remained where he was. "You coming to sleep, buddy?"

"In a minute," Bentley managed to say. To emphasize his hesitance to sleep, he lifted the mug of his half drunk milk. "I can't just leave this here. Penelope wouldn't let me hear the end of it."

Murray nodded at this notion, and then grinned slowly. "Alright little brother. Good night."

And then he left, leaving Bentley seated at the table, alone. He slouched slightly against the table, shoving his mug aside to rest his elbows on the hard wood. Now that he was alone, he allowed the tears to escape from his eyes, pulled his glasses off to bury his face into his hands.

Bentley barely felt the small hand that landed on his shelled back, as he cried silently to himself, wondering just _why_ everything had to change so suddenly.

* * *

**2 months later…**

_Snap!_

Sly blinked, startled by the sudden noise in front of his nose. His eyes quickly refocused on the fingers in front of him, and looked up into Carmelita's large, brown eyes. The vixen didn't look amused in the least, her brows knitting together tightly.

"Focus, Constable," she said tartly. "It won't do you any good to be distracted tonight."

He grimaced at her tone, but nodded slowly. "Of course, Inspector Fox."

She nodded, and settled back on the seat in front of him, crossing her arms across her chest. They both swayed slightly, bumping into other officers at their sides. The truck they were seated in, was currently on its way to a warehouse near the docks, where Interpol had finally gathered enough Intel to know that Yorath, the corrupt politician candidate they'd been pursuing for months now, was going to be meeting with a drug dealer that very night. Their small group consisted of himself, Dominic, Carmelita, Liam, and a rather imposing looking grizzly that Sly didn't know very well; he'd only ever greeted the large man in passing.

If the raccoon remembered correctly, the grizzly was Captain Orso De Luca, the one who would be commanding their small group into the warehouse. The bullet proof vest he bore, was barely enough to contain his broad chest, which Sly thought was rather useless; all that muscle had to protect just as easily against bullets. With a strong looking jaw, arms that looked more like tree trunks, and a tall body, De Luca was usually given a wide berth whenever other officers encountered him. All the while, his dark, almost black, brown eyes seemed to glow with a ferocity that Sly had never seen before in any one else. The Captain was a formidable man, who commanded much respect from those he came into contact with, both because of his imposing figure, and because he could be a very reasonable man. Despite looking like a brute, De Luca was not one to be trifled with when it came to trying to outsmart him; he wasn't a Captain for no reason.

A small poke at his side turned Sly's head, to see Dominic grinning uncertainly up at him. The canine seemed somewhat jumpy, and almost frightened of the case they were on their way to.

"You seem off today," the canine whispered, trying not to draw attention to himself in the cramped truck. It was rather impossible though, considering the three other officers riding with them could hear every word. "Do you have to use the bathroom or something? I can ask the driver to stop for you, if you're embarrassed."

Snickering to Sly's left had the raccoon throwing a half hearted glare at Liam, who immediately sobered; but the laughter never left his eyes. A sigh of irritation left the former thief, as he pinched the spot between his eyes. "No, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong."

He could distinctively feel eyes on him, which he concluded to be Carmelita's, but he ignored it for now. The past two months had been hard for himself, as well as for his relationship with the vixen. After he'd come back from the interrogation with Commissioner Arks, and Chief Barkley, she'd been a lot more distant from the raccoon. At first, he'd shrugged it off as being something bothering her, but eventually it became too prominent for him to dismiss it for something else. She snapped at him much easier than before, and she seemed to be watching his actions much more carefully. For some odd reason, it felt as though she believed the robberies were actually committed by him; and that hurt. No matter how many times he tried to reassure her that it was all just a set up to make him look bad, Carmelita seemed to not be as willing to believe him. They still spent together, but it seemed a lot more strained than before, their laughs somewhat forced, and their kisses without much passion. To Sly, it felt like he was watching everything through a bad movie, where his own actions didn't feel like his own; he wondered if Carmelita felt the same.

They both put on a farce for the other officers at the precinct and for their friends, but Liam had already caught onto the sudden change in his two friends. However, the panther had refrained from saying a word, obviously trying to respect the rough patch they were going through.

Even now, Sly felt another pair of eyes on him, and he knew that Liam was trying to catch his eye, but the raccoon refused to lift his gaze from the floor. He knew that all he would see, was sympathy in Liam's green eyes, and Sly wasn't sure if he was ready to see that again. Dominic's voice brought him out of his thoughts again.

"Well if you're sure. Because sometimes, I need to use the bathroom right after we leave someplace, and then it's such a pain to find one close by after you get to the place, and-"

"Nobody wants to hear you prattle on, kid," growled De Luca, his eyes boring holes through the much smaller canine's body. Nodding slowly, Dominic immediately quieted with his ears pressing down against his skull, while Sly thanked the Captain furiously in his mind.

Silence soon fell over the entire group, the only thing to punctuate it, being the rumble of the engine, and cars passing them by.

De Luca looked down at his watch, and said in a low voice, "we'll be there soon. Make sure you have your Glocks on you, and that you all know the plan. If we need to contact one another, or myself, the earpieces we all have are on the same frequency." He paused here to tap at the head piece he wore. "Use them only if you need to. Inspector Liam, and Constable Cooper will go around the front, where Yorath will be pulling up to. I want you two to sneak in, and take pictures of the exchange that happens between himself and the drug dealer, and anything else that might be of interest. Inspector Fox, and Constable Bordeaux, I want you two to sweep the back areas, and check for any crates or deliveries that may be there. For all we know, this could be where the drug dealer houses all his operations. We could easily kill two birds with one stone. I'll be with the truck, monitoring anything you might relay to each other, or to myself."

Sly could feel apprehension grip his body, as he realized that during this entire operation, he would be unable to keep an eye on Carmelita. Although he knew that the vixen was more than capable of handling herself, it always put him at ease to know that she was safe from harm when he was there with her. The two hadn't yet gone on a case as dangerous as this before, the bullet proof vests they all bore certainly a testament to that. Sly did hate the vests though, because he felt like the clothing restricted his movements, but hadn't protested against it. He wasn't feeling nervous for himself, no. He was much more anxious to what might happen tonight, as a small chill settled itself in his spine. Liam, who seemed to notice Sly's tail twitching, offered his friend a toothy grin, but Sly didn't return it.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the ragged hole where Liam had been shot a scant 6 months ago. The raccoon swallowed loudly, but it was drowned out by the truck coming to a halt, jostling the officers around.

De Luca stood, his back arching so that he didn't hit his head against the roof, and opened the back doors. He stepped out, and held it open to let the others come out. Once everybody was outside, he shut the truck's doors, while the truck itself stayed in place, engine rumbling softly. After De Luca re-entered the truck, it would obviously hide itself in the shadows, so that no one would see it.

The Captain turned towards the group in front of him, and said, "alright, you all know the plan. I'll keep in contact with you, and I want you all to be careful. I'd like to avoid any casualties tonight." He paused, and looked over towards the warehouse they were going to be going into.

It looked innocent enough, with a tall roof, and metal walls. However, even from their position, they could hear the slight din of activity from inside, with lights shining from the windows, and spilling forth into the night. It would have been rather conspicuous, if there weren't any other warehouses near the area that had the same amount of activity. This was one of the many reasons why Interpol had been unable to locate the warehouse until now.

"Alright team," De Luca nodded, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Head out, and remember to keep in contact. Our main purpose today, is to catch Yorath speaking with the drug dealer, and nothing else. Don't make any contact with him, and don't be seen. Keep the entire operation quiet, unless you're threatened. Once that happens, I'm prepared to call for backup, and get you all the hell out of there. _Don't hesitate to call for help._"

His last words left a ringing silence around them, his brown eyes hard, and also holding what could be called worry for his group.

All of them saluted in affirmation, before breaking off into their two teams. Carmelita, and Dominic immediately made their ways towards the back areas of the warehouse grounds, while Sly and Liam quietly dashed towards the front area. Luck seemed to be on their side, as there was no one outside guarding the doors, but the area was brightly lit, which would ruin their element of surprise if they were to just waltz up to it. Sly frowned slightly, and looked over the area, checking if there was anything they could use to possibly climb up through a window, or slip in through the front doors easily. But nothing else called out to either of them, so Liam jerked a finger towards the warehouse doors, and the two snuck forward as silently as they could on gravel.

They reached it without a hitch, and while Sly surveyed the area, Liam took a quick peek inside to make sure nobody would see them. Once the coast was clear, Liam nodded to Sly, and as quickly as they could, the raccoon and panther slipped in without anyone noticing, and dove behind tall, stacked crates to their left.

Slowly, they began to make their way towards the centre of the activity, both silently hoping that this mission would go off without a hitch.

* * *

"There's nothing here!" Dominic called from somewhere in the shadows, making Carmelita clench her teeth together, and close her eyes in exasperation, at the volume of his voice.

"_Will you keep your voice down?_" she whispered harshly from her location. Although it was silent and empty where the two were currently checking out the area, the vixen didn't want to risk the chance, that someone might come around and hear them. Letting the top of the crate she'd pried open fall, she whipped her head around towards the general direction the Constable's voice had come from. Though she couldn't see anything because of the darkness, she was sure that Dominic was there, considering she'd heard his shoes scuffing against the gravel, and a crate being closed. She had to wonder just how the hell he became a Constable.

"Sorry," he whispered back, this time making sure that his voice wasn't as loud. The canine appeared then, looking somewhat sheepish, and apologetic for his actions. "I'm not finding anything, Inspector. Maybe Interpol was wrong about this being the drug dealer's house of operations."

"Maybe," Carmelita agreed, shaking her head. An irritated sigh escaped her, and she swept her eyes across the area. The area they were in, was rather normal looking, a simple dock area with various warehouses jutting out from the ground around them. Crates, boxes, and supplies were all stacked into piles around them, along with some machinery used to move the objects. It was dark, with only the moon, like a bright blue gem in the sky, to illuminate their path. As she continued to look around, she spotted a dark shape in the distance, much too large to be a crate, and much too small to be a warehouse. Her ears perked up slightly when she realized it was a trailer. "Wait, maybe we'll find something over there."

When Dominic gave her a questioning look, she spun him around by the shoulder, and pointed out the distant shape.

"Oh," his mouth fell slightly, and then he turned his head to look at the vixen. "Do you really think we might find something there? That drug dealer guy could be a lot smarter than we thought, and he put that there to trick us or something."

Carmelita shook her head. "It's the best shot we have. Shipment files, or documents might be kept there. It's like Captain De Luca said. If we have those files, Interpol would be able to put a stop to this operation, _and _arrest Yorath for meeting with this guy."

The canine looked unsure, but with one glare from Carmelita, he quailed, and quickly followed the vixen. The trailer wasn't far from their location, but every once in a while, Carmelita would duck behind a crate, or discarded garbage and supplies, to see if anybody was around. Dominic followed almost reluctantly, his ears twitched every so often, and his short tail lashed the air in agitation behind him. For the most part, Carmelita ignored it, but she wondered silently why he seemed so nervous about the area.

Soon enough, they were both a simple run across from the trailer, but Carmelita stopped the Constable from running ahead. He looked somewhat put off by it.

"Oh come on, the trailer's right there! We can just go in there, sneak in, and grab whatever files are in there. It isn't that hard, Inspector! Come on, let's go!" The sudden over eagerness in his tone, made Carmelita frown, but she kept her paw on his shoulder.

"We have to be sure that there isn't anyone around. That door is most likely locked, and we're going to have to figure out how to unlock it, or get in without destroying anything."

Dominic cringed.

"Well, I don't know how to pick a lock! Maybe Captain De Luca should have made Sly come with me here… He would have that door unlocked in a snap!" To emphasize his point, Dominic snapped his fingers, grinning to lighten the mood a little.

However, the vixen immediately stiffened at this notion, realizing that a small voice in the back of mind was saying the exact same thing. Trying to shake it off was a lot harder than it would normally be, considering everything that had happened over the course of the months Sly had been at Interpol. As much as she tried to believe that Sly wasn't behind the robberies that had occurred both at the Louvre, and the _Musée Guimet,_ she found herself thinking otherwise. There were many moments when she came to blurting out her suspicions to Sly, and demand that he tell her the truth, but she'd resisted it, and it was because of this, their relationship was tense, like a too tight violin string. She'd even been forced to report back to Commissioner Arks, and Chief Barkley everything that happened within their relationship, and she'd been forced to watch the raccoon even closer than usual. Her heart strained, and seemed to stop beating when she realized that although she loved Sly with all her heart, she couldn't shake off the fear that he was going behind her back, and what would happen when Interpol found out.

When the Inspector didn't answer his supposed joke, Dominic looked over at her, seeing that she was lost in thought. Timidly, he asked, "Inspector? I'm sorry, that was a joke, okay? You were supposed to laugh you know."

His voice broke through her whirling thoughts, making her start slightly. Carmelita's mouth thinned into a line, while she tried to brush off her thoughts again. "That's not a funny joke, Constable Bordeaux. Look, Cooper has amnesia, so he wouldn't remember how to pick a lock. And he isn't here anyway, so _you_ and _I_ need to find some way to get inside. Do you have any ideas?"

Dominic quieted, and looked uneasily out of the corner of his eye at her. As he looked around he pointed out something in the trailer. "Well, there's a window opened there. Maybe you can get in through there? I wonder why it's opened though. It's kind of chilly outside, and that place is going to be freezing when someone goes in to work."

She followed his outstretched finger, ignoring his ranting, and noticed that there was indeed, an opened window, just barely stretched to let in a small bit of air. But with some precision, and careful movement, Carmelita was sure she could get it opened, search the trailer, and get out within a few minutes. The only problem was being exposed out in the open.

Turning back to Dominic, she saw that he was still staring up at her, his large amber eyes somewhat inquisitive, and unsure. Quick to take control again, Carmelita cleared her throat, and said, "alright, here's what we're going to do. I want you to keep a look out at the area, to make sure no one comes by. I'm going to sneak in, and take a quick look around."

He nodded at the plan.

"Just make sure you give me a warning if someone is coming. Like a knock against the side of the trailer."

Again, he nodded. Once she was sure he understood the plan, Carmelita took another glance around at the area, and then dashed forward, her booted feet scraping against the gravel. Dominic's footsteps followed hers, just as equally noisily. She winced at the noise, but luckily, they reached the trailer with no one noticing, or coming around. The window into the trailer was a bit higher than she would have liked, but Dominic laced his paws together to let Carmelita step on them. Much to her surprise, he was a lot stronger than he looked, and he easily lifted her so that her fingers grasped onto the window ledge. She slid the window opened, and heaved herself upwards. Lady Luck seemed to be on their side once more, as the window slid open soundlessly, and Carmelita quickly dropped in.

Before she went to searching, the vixen stuck her head out, and saw that the canine had hidden himself beside the stairs leading up the door, the shadows there masking his presence.

He noticed her, and gave a quiet thumbs up.

A nod to confirm that she approved, Carmelita slid the window back to its original position, and looked around.

The trailer was messy and dim, with a metal desk pushed against one of the walls, and various corkboards of pamphlets and information tacked up. It seemed almost like a normal construction trailer, with the exception of an expensive looking coat hanging from a hanger near the door; a sign that this was where the drug dealer possibly worked. A rug thrown on the ground, and a couch pushed to into a comer of the trailer, made the place seem a bit more accommodating than usual, also another sign that the drug dealer might even sleep there sometimes. Eyes narrowing, Carmelita strode to the desk carefully, her steps muffled by the rug on the ground. Various papers strewn on the surface called for her attention, so she leafed through them quickly, finding nothing of interest. So she turned her attention to the desk itself, and tugged on a drawer in the desk. It was locked however, so she moved on, tugging on locked drawers until she finally found one that was open. Inside were various office supplies, along with a sleek, black folder. She picked it up, raising a brow when she saw there was no label on it. When she opened it, she noticed that it had various shipment dates, and names written in it. One such name was Jacan Yorath.

A smirk lit up her features, so she clicked a button on the headset she wore. "Captain De Luca, I found some documents here with names, and dates on them. What do you want me to do with them?"

Static answered her call, until De Luca's gruff voice filtered in. "Take them. We could use them."

"Roger, that." She let the connection go. Another quick glance around brought nothing else of interest to mind, so she turned back towards the window she'd just come into. Making sure that the folder wasn't going to be damaged or folded, she tucked it just inside the vest she wore where it wouldn't fall out. Carmelita was just about to walk to the window, when harsh knocking on the side of the trailer had her jumping nearly 5 feet into the air.

Before she had the proper time to react, all Hell broke loose.

Gunshots suddenly rang out from outside, making Carmelita throw herself to the floor, just as bullets ripped through the thin metal of the trailer, and various items exploded from the force of the bullets. She quickly flipped the couch over to take cover behind it, wincing when bullets hit against it with dull thuds, but thankfully not going through. Cursing, Carmelita grabbed her Glock at her hip, and slid back the slider with a sharp click.

_Damn it, this isn't good._

* * *

"I really hate these vests," Sly muttered in a huff, tugging at the vest as it chaffed against his neck. He felt warm under the constricting piece of clothing, and he wondered to himself how much trouble he'd get into if he were to take it off, and De Luca found out. Liam shot the raccoon a disapproving look.

"You know those things are going to save your life if this turns bad, right?"

The raccoon grunted in affirmation, remaining crouched where he was. His eyes scanned the area before them, as the two were currently hiding in the shadows, trying to make their way deeper inside without being seen. It was a rather stark contrast between the docks outside, and the warehouse they were in now. While it was chilly outside, with only the water, and groaning of docked ships breaking the silence, inside it was warm, almost sweltering, to the point Sly and Liam were sweating. Voices, rough barks, and shouts, punctuated the sound of machinery whining, while the both of them ducked behind another crate when a forklift drove by. There was a lot of movement, with various men packing things into crates, most of them with guns at their hips. Sly and Liam had yet to find Yorath amongst the people inside, and they were both starting to get a bit frustrated.

There was no call from outside from either Carmelita, Dominic, or De Luca, and Sly was starting to feel a bit nervous about that. Despite that though, he rugged the camera he'd been given out of his pants pocket, and snapped a few pictures of the inner workings of the operation.

"Well, now what do we do?" asked Sly, keeping his eyes trained on the workers packing away, snapping another photo. "I don't see Yorath anywhere."

Liam was silent, as his green eyes narrowed slightly at the scene before them. He watched the packers nail a crate shut, and then a forklift carry it over to one of the stacks. The panther looked around again, trying to see if there was any sign of the wolverine, and much to his pleasure, he finally spotted two figures above the area, on the walkway above. They were currently overlooking the operation, until the drug dealer, a rather thin looking lion, gestured for Yorath and the two retreated into an office above.

"Well, lucky for you, I just found him," Liam smirked, pointing out the office. Sly's own eyes narrowed at seeing this, and then turned back to the panther.

"Okay, you found him. Big whoop. How are we going to get up there without alerting any of the guys in here?"

Liam frowned at this notion. "Let me think…"

Silence lapsed over them, as the two began to think hard about how they were going to go about this. Sly went through countless scenarios, each one ending badly, until something popped into his mind. He looked around quickly, and saw a few pipes, and chains reaching up the walkway. It would be an easy climb up, but the only problem was doing so without cluing Liam in about his feigned amnesia, and the blasted vest he wore. Seeing no other choice, Sly turned back to the panther. "Hey."

That got the panther attention, as he focused his green gaze back on the raccoon. "What?"

"I have an idea, but I'm going to need you to promise me two things here."

A perturbed look crossed Liam's features, his ears flattening slightly. He wasn't sure he was going to like this plan.

"And what would that be?"

"I'm going to sneak up there using that pipe on the wall there. Nobody will think to look up at those while they're so concentrated on their packing, and the stairs upstairs. I'll sneak onto the catwalk, and take pictures of whatever Yorath is doing up there. And then I'll come back down here, and the two of us can get the hell out of here. Oh, and I'm going to be leaving my gear with you, so watch out for those, alright?"

What seemed to be panic, settled deep into Liam's chest, stealing some of his breath away. "I'm sorry, are you telling me, that you're going to be sneaking up there - alone, might I add - _without_ a bullet proof vest?" When Sly nodded, the panther had to struggle hard to keep his voice down. "_Are you insane? _You really think I'm going to let you do that?"

The raccoon shrugged. "We don't have another choice. And if I don't get those photos, we're not going to have another chance at getting Yorath like this. Just let me do this, alright? You can't tell Carmelita or De Luca about this, because they'll both kill me if they find out about this. Trust me Liam."

The pleading look he gave Liam, was more than enough to make the panther cave. Liam sighed heavily, running a paw through his violet, almost black, coloured head fur. "Fine. I won't say a word. Just don't get yourself killed or shot, because _that'll_ be hard to explain."

Sly grinned in appreciation, nodding. "I'll try not to."

Once he said that, the raccoon was quickly wriggling himself out of the constricting vest, tossing it to the ground unceremoniously. He also pulled out the headpiece, and was about to unhook the gun holster across his hips, when Liam stopped him.

"Take the Glock with you," he hissed, looking apprehensive, and wanting to kick himself for letting his friend go ahead with such an obviously dangerous and stupid idea. "You never know when you might need it, and I don't think any of these guys are going to toss their guns away to fight you fairly. I'll keep an eye out, but you can't be too careful."

Seeing the logic in it, Sly nodded, and left the holster where it was. Although it annoyed him that he was going to have extra weight on his body while sneaking around, he also knew that it would come in handy if he got into a scuffle. Making sure that nobody was around, Sly bounded forward, hiding in the shadows like a ghost, his boots barely making a noise on the floor. Luckily, the activity in the warehouse muted many sounds, such as his footsteps, but unfortunately, the bright lights everywhere made moving around a bit harder than usual.

He could feel Liam's eyes watching his every move, so Sly did his best not to do many manoeuvres that could give away his thieving moves. But it was a bit hard to do so, as he could feel a slight thrill settling across his shoulders, as he felt more at home this way than he ever had in a long time. Stress seemed to dissipate, and adrenaline began to pump through his veins as he narrowly avoided being seen by a worker.

_Piece of cake, _Sly smirked to himself, as he neared one of the pipes that led up to the walkway. He grabbed it in paw, and began the slow descent upwards. Shadows hid his progress upwards, but he kept his eyes peeled for anybody who might notice. His fingers grasped onto the cool metal grating of the catwalk above, and he easily heaved himself upwards, crouching low to the ground. Sly glanced over the edge, and spotted Liam making his way forward as well, his Glock in hand, and Sly's vest slung over his shoulder.

Eventually, Sly pulled himself away, and quietly made his way across to where the lit office was. It was a bit like a large box, with an expansive window taking up most of the front so that anybody inside could look down at the workers below. Sly's ears twitched slightly, as he neared and caught muffled voices from inside. He paused for a moment to rifle through his pockets on his pants, and pulled out the camera again. Leaning against the cold wall, he took a deep breath, and peeked out from the corner of the window.

Yorath was inside with the lion, the two deep in discussion. At the moment, they were both hovering over a desk with papers laid in front of them, along with various markers, and pens to the side. The lion blew a cloud of smoke from his mouth, crushing his cigarette on the table, and turned to say something to Yorath, but Sly was unable to hear most of the words. He cursed silently, but decided to just do what he needed to do, and snapped a few photos. He managed to catch Yorath handing a wad of bills that had to contain at least a couple thousand, to the lion. The lion looked exceptionally happy at this, and gave a toothy grin to Yorath, shaking his paw happily. Sly made a small frustrated noise in the back of his throat. It seemed as though Yorath had already struck another deal. He snapped a few more photos, before figuring that he already had enough to get Interpol to arrest the corrupt politician, and throw the drug dealer in jail.

Sly stuck the camera back in his pocket, and turned to try and make his way back down again.

Unfortunately, he'd been so distracted by his mission, that he failed to hear, or even notice that one of the workers had made their way up to his position. Sly turned to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun,

Sly's eyes widened, as the hammer clicked back. He tried to twist away to avoid the bullet, but a deafening blast echoed in his ears, leaving him disoriented. There was only one thing he had in mind, as bone shattering pain caught him in the shoulder.

_Oh, crap._

* * *

Bullets continued to pelt the trailer Carmelita was holed up in, making her wonder just how many men might be out there. That, and she wondered just where Dominic had run off to; at the very least he warned her though. Panic suddenly tightened her throat, and she wondered if Sly might be facing the exact same thing. Determination then thrust it aside, as she clenched her teeth together, and dove for the door. They would probably be expecting her to come out of the door, but trying to leap through the closed window would leave the vixen exposed.

So as quietly as she could, she unlocked the door, waiting for a handful of seconds, and then kicked it open. As she predicted, bullets clanged off the metal door which she quickly ducked behind again. Clicking back the hammer on her Glock, she swiftly swung her top half from behind the door, and shot out towards where the gunshots were originating from. However, the darkness easily hid away whoever it was, and Carmelita was quickly ducking back again as more bullets hit the door.

_Crap, _she cursed again, ejecting the empty magazine from her pistol, and pushing a fresh one in. _How the hell did they notice we were here? _

Her ears perked up to hear shouts from in front of her, and she quickly threw herself forward, just as more bullets peppered the door just behind her. Fortunately for her, the shooter was just in front of her, so she quickly shot for his kneecaps, making the man shriek in pain and fall to the ground.

Carmelita pushed herself off from the gravel, ignoring the pain in her chest from diving forward, and ran towards the shadowed crates in front of her. Bullets followed her every step, just barely missing her legs, and she winced slightly when one of the projectiles clipped her tail. Finally in a safe place, Carmelita took a moment to catch her breath, while making sure she wasn't hit anywhere else but her tail. She hissed when she felt a small cut on her calf, where a bullet had grazed her, but thankfully it was shallow enough not to hinder her movements. A paw landed heavily on her shoulder, making Carmelita bite back a yelp of shock, before she spun around with her Glock clicking ominously. She would have shot too, if her pistol wasn't being pointed directly at Dominic's forehead. The canine's eyes were huge, nearly bulging out of their sockets, as he let his paws reach skyward.

"I'm sorry!" he squeaked, quaking from the shock of having a gun pulled on him. "I was just trying to say hi!"

Carmelita growled softly, and moved her pistol away, eyeing the taller canine up and down. She spotted what looked like blood running down from a small cut above his brow, dirt smeared across his fur, and what looked like another small cut on his cheek.

"What the hell happened?" she demanded in a low tone, gesturing to where she'd just run from. Her ears caught the sound of someone talking, obviously the gunmen looking for them. She turned her eyes away from Dominic for a moment, still wanting answers. "You were supposed to be watching!"

"I-I was hiding," Dominic muttered, looking around anxiously, avoiding her gaze. To make him look at her, Carmelita grabbed his muzzle, and directed his gaze towards her. He swallowed. "B-but they snuck up on me. I-I'm sorry."

His sentences all came out in a huge rush, leaving him panting slightly, looking pale, and terrified. Carmelita flinched, and let him go, before hearing gravel shift under a foot behind them. Without even thinking, she lunged forward, and grabbed Dominic around the middle, pushing him into the ground. He let out a small cry, which was drowned out by a blast of a gun. The bullet whizzed right above their heads, while Carmelita turned onto her side, and shot at the gunman behind them.

The man went down soundlessly, a bullet right through his forehead. She heard Dominic swallow again, his body shaking slightly under hers. Again, Carmelita wondered just how the hell he managed to get a job at Interpol, if he was scared by just a little bit of blood. There were still shouts from all around, so she grabbed him by the arm, and pulled the slightly shaking canine to his feet, before she was running towards a different location, this time running closer towards the warehouse. She debated on whether to call De Luca on the headset.

More bullets whizzing right by their heads made up her mind.

"Constable!" she hissed back to him, as she unceremoniously threw them both behind another crate. Dominic looked uncertainly up at her, breathing hard from their run, and wiping the blood encroaching on his vision. "Tell Captain De Luca to call for backup. We're going to need it now."

He nodded furiously, and pressed a button on the headset he wore, quickly delegating what was happening. Carmelita hoped that backup would get there quick, and they wouldn't be in such danger. While Dominic told everything that had happened, Carmelita spotted a few of the workers coming by, and shot at them, making them duck behind a couple of crates. Her arms shook slightly, as something suddenly came to mind.

_Sly, and Liam!_

They had yet to hear a single word from the feline, and raccoon, and the worry wavered her resolve for a moment. A bullet hit the crate just above her head, making her duck to the ground, and pull Dominic down as well.

"We have to get out of here!" she shouted above the gunshots. The canine nodded, and they both rolled away from their location, bounding to their feet to continue on their way to safety. Dominic, finally gathering some of his courage, shot back at the people shooting at them, catching some in the shoulders, and others in the chest. However, Carmelita had no time to congratulate him for finally doing something, when she saw one of the windows from the warehouse shatter, glass falling to the ground, and sprinkling itself like glitter across the ground.

Her breathing hitched. Once more, panic and adrenaline fuelled the vixen into running full pelt towards the warehouse, mindless of the fact that she was still being shot at. Dominic's panicked shout of her name went on deaf ears, as she neared the large building, where gunshots and shouts were now starting to reach her ears.

The only thing she had in mind, was the hope that Sly was okay.

* * *

Liam's hackles rose, his ears flattening across his skull, as he heard a gunshot from above, and he looked up to see Sly falling to a heap on the catwalk, with no signs of getting back up. Panic tightened his throat, and made him clench his teeth together as he ran towards the stairs leading up the catwalk without a second thought, ignoring the fact that he was making a lot of noise running. However, he could now hear shouts from the workers around him, and the forklifts fall silent.

Liam jaw tightened in apprehension, but tried his best to ignore it.

This was going south - and fast.

Bullets suddenly clipped him, making the panther dive behind a stack of crates. Panting heavily, he clicked the hammer back on his Glock, and leaned out from behind to shoot out anybody who happened to be in his immediate sights. He managed to get three of them, one in the chest, the other in the thigh, and the last in the arm. They all went down with howls of pain, which Liam used as his advantage to run closer to the stairs, hoping beyond hope that Sly was okay.

Carmelita would never forgive Liam, if the raccoon was killed tonight.

He cursed himself for being so stupid to let his friend go up there, alone, _and_ without a bullet proof vest. How the hell could he have agreed to such a stupid idea? His ears flattened even more against his skull, as he continued on his way, getting closer and closer to his destination. More bullets pelted the area around him, and despite the situation, Liam smirked to himself, as he realized that these workers were incredibly bad shots. However, he got pinned down close to the stairs, but not close enough where he couldn't risk being shot.

As the shouting, and gunshots got louder, Liam pressed a finger to his headset, and said, "we need backup. We've been found out, and Constable Cooper has possibly been shot. I repeat, we need backup."

He didn't even wait for an answer from De Luca, as he fired off a few more shots at an approaching worker. The man went down without a sound, a bullet through his throat, while Liam took off again, wincing when a bullet clipped cheek. Unexpectedly, he was blind sided by a fist. Liam grunted, landing painfully on his back, and jaw aching, just barely rolling away when a foot came slamming down where his chest had been; if he'd been there a second earlier, he would certainly be sporting broken ribs. Liam lashed his leg out, and caught his opponent in the knees, sending him crashing to the ground. Before the man could utter a word, Liam slammed his Glock into his head, letting his opponent crumple to the ground.

Suddenly, a shout came from above, and Liam whipped his head upwards to see a body falling from the catwalk. He almost thought it was Sly, until he realized that the body was much too large to be the athletic raccoon. There was a loud crash, as a rhino's body landed heavily on the crates below.

Liam ducked his head, and looked up again to see that Sly was making his way over to one of the pipes, looking relatively uninjured, with the exception of what looked like an injured shoulder. Unable to see much else, Liam heard scuffling from behind, and turned to see a bulldog, just about his height, and weight, come barrelling forward. Liam leapt out of the way, and threw a right hook directly at the bulldog's jaw, sending the man thudding to the ground. Before the panther could do anything else though, someone grabbed him from behind, holding his arms back, and wrapping their forearm across his throat. The panther's weapon fell from his paw, clattering away somewhere that he couldn't quite reach from his position.

With his air suddenly cut off, Liam kicked, and bucked against whoever was holding him, but they held fast. Black spots began to dance in his vision, and just when he felt like he was about to pass out, his capturer shouted in pain, and Liam was let go. Pulling in large gulps of air, and coughing, Liam fell to his knees, grabbing for his fallen Glock, and turning to aim, when he realized that the man who had grabbed him from before was now on the ground, while Sly stood in his place, panting, and holding his pistol in paw.

"Thanks, buddy," Liam wheezed out, noticing that Sly nodded curtly, looking pale, and holding onto his shoulder. It was then that the panther realized that the raccoon had been shot, with crimson coating his shaking fingers, and shirt. "Shit, what the hell happened?"

Before Sly could answer, more shouts pointed out there location, to which Liam immediately sprang into action. He lunged forward, and pulled Sly down, the two falling to the ground with grunts, as bullets crossed paths right above their heads. Liam had to literally pull Sly across the ground towards another hiding place, where they could hear the shouting, and curses from the workers growing steadily louder.

Liam felt sweat bead under his fur, as he realized that they were in real deep trouble this time around. Static fed through his headpiece, a sign that they weren't getting any proper communication at the moment, while Sly himself was shot. He hoped that his call for backup had actually been heard before.

Hissing in pain, Sly eased his fingers a bit tighter across his shoulder, and shot Liam a look.

"What do we do now?" he asked, breathing hard, but looked determined to do anything to get them out of there.

"Let me think," Liam grunted, ducking around the crate to shoot blindly at whoever was nearing them. There were satisfying shrieks of agony, but Liam didn't take a second look to see if they were down permanently. However, he couldn't think of a single thing to do, and although normally he would try to keep his cool, the Inspector was starting to feel worry settle in. No response had come from his call, Sly had been shot, and he had no clue if Carmelita, or Dominic were still okay. He flinched as he realized that if he brought this up to Sly, that it might cause the raccoon to panic himself. However, he felt a paw on his shoulder, and looked over to see Sly giving him a determined, although pained, look.

"I have a plan, but don't move from here," Sly grit his teeth together, groaning slightly as he eased a bit more pressure to his wound. Liam opened his mouth to protest, but his friend was already crouching away, ducking behind another crate.

Liam cursed, and shouted out as he lunged over the top of the crate to shoot anybody who came near, "_I hope your idea isn't going to get us killed!"_

* * *

**Who thinks Sly's idea might get them killed? Haha, no I kid, but honestly, I hope this chapter was enjoyable, and not boring for any of you. It gave me a huge headache, but it's finally out. Don't expect extra long chapters like this in the future by the way, haha. This was probably an exception to my 'no more than 10 - 12 pages a chapter' rule, but if you all don't mind waiting just a bit longer for longer chapters, then I might consider it. We'll see.**

**Just another note: this will most likely be the last chapter I update before getting back to school. Unless I write like the wind or something (highly unlikely, as it literally takes me **days/weeks** just to write one chapter), the next part might be a bit late. I'll try my best to keep up with the current schedule of, 'new chapter every 1-2 weeks', but I can't guarantee it; especially if I'm going to be working a job at the same time. It'll be my first time going back to college in 3 years, so wish me luck guys.**

**Until next time, fellow readers.**


	12. Spike

Last edited: (08.31.12)

**I know I said I wouldn't get the next chapter up any time soon, but I tried my best to update at least one more before school starts for me in about a week, so here we are. There weren't as many headaches for this chapter like the last one, so that's also why you got a faster update this time around, haha. Still a few hiccups here, and there, but regardless it wasn't as bad as the last chapter. Anyway, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 12: Spike

* * *

"Are you feeling alright, Sly?"

Said raccoon grinned deviously from he position on the couch, and responded, "I think I'd feel better if you gave me a kiss."

To emphasize his point, he waggled his brows suggestively at the vixen.

Carmelita crossed her arms across her chest, and frowned down at the raccoon. Although she wanted to laugh at his eccentricities, she couldn't help but feel somewhat surprised by his laid back attitude at the moment. After all, it had only been two weeks since the warehouse mission. Sly had been released from the hospital not too long after, so the couple was now currently in Sly's apartment. Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows, and they'd also opened them to let in some air. The noise from cars passing by, and birds chirping, along with the general din of pedestrians in the street below, certainly added to the general atmosphere in the apartment. Eyeing the raccoon critically, Carmelita noted that he did look much better than he had a week ago. The multiple injuries that Sly had sustained, from the stitches in his shoulder, and head, all the way to the bruises on his face, meant he wasn't going to be back in action any time soon; which was why Barkley had assigned him to desk work for another week after he went back to work. However, even with his somewhat sluggish actions, the cheeky raccoon's attitude had certainly not suffered, and Carmelita wondered silently if he even remembered what had occurred at the warehouse before.

She shook those thoughts of her head though.

Sighing softly, she leaned down, and placed a quick peck on one of his cheeks. She figured she might as well give him _something_, considering everything that had happened. Carmelita straightened, and quirked a brow. "Better?"

Chuckling, Sly rubbed lightly at his right shoulder where the bandages wound themselves across it. Sometimes the injury ached when he moved too quickly. The vixen noticed, but she couldn't blame him for sometimes favouring the shoulder, considering he'd had a bullet dug out from there not too long ago.

Another grin pulled at his lips. "I think I need another one."

A pillow was chucked at him, which Sly dodged, laughing at her reaction, and the slightly flustered look on her face. Surprisingly, this was almost exactly how they'd been acting over the course of the months before the robbery at the _Musée Guimet _that had first led to their strained moments together. Of course, the vixen was still somewhat distant from the raccoon, but Sly figured it was better that they were laughing together now than to have the vixen completely ignore him. Sly could tell there was something bothering her, but he hadn't said a word to pry into what it was she was thinking. He had to hide a grin from her; perhaps things were going to be better between them now.

Carmelita snickered, but silenced herself suddenly, as she realized that even though she was trying to take care of him to the best of her abilities, she still felt somewhat distrusting of the raccoon. But thankfully, he didn't say a word or even seemed to notice her silence, instead opting to yawn widely, and settle himself into a more comfortable position on his couch.

She regarded his relaxed stature, shrewdly. "Why aren't you resting in your room?"

He chuckled softly, and gestured to the TV settled on a table across from them.

"I'd get bored sleeping in my room all the time, you know."

Seeing the logic in it, Carmelita simply nodded, and went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water to give to Sly. It was nearly time he took the medication prescribed to him, and despite still being lost in certain memories, and thoughts, Carmelita was still set on following the schedule.

"Well, I think you should head to bed anyway, because you need to take these pills, and they usually knock you out."

He groaned loudly from the couch, but said nothing else, instead, actually listening to what Carmelita suggested and shuffling to his room. The vixen smiled to herself, as she watched him go into his room, stretching slightly, and yawning. Despite the fact that he was feeling much better now, he still had those moments of being tired; usually his pills were the ones that did that to him.

When she walked into his room, it was to find the raccoon settling into his bed with a wince, once again favouring his right shoulder to get comfortable. She herself, knew that being shot was painful, so she winced in sympathy before striding forward, and handing him the glass of water.

Sly took it with a quick thanks, tossing back the two pills he'd taken from the bottle on the bedside table, and took a deep gulp of water. Once he was done, he set the glass aside, and lay back into his bed to take a nap. Carmelita hovered for a moment, unsure if she should stay and make sure that he was really okay, or leave and let him sleep off the meds. He regarded her with a quirked brow, and heavily lidded eyes.

"Carm? Wha's wrong?" Already, his voice was taking on a slightly slurred tone, the meds obviously already doing their job of knocking him out.

Carmelita sighed softly, and reached a paw forward, running her fingers through the soft, grey fur on his head. There was another curious look on his face, as it appeared as though he was wondering to himself why she was acting this way. Although the two hadn't been fighting as much as they had right after the robbery at the _Musée Guimet_, it was still strange for the raccoon to see Carmelita be so caring towards him. Regardless, he was rather enjoying the sensation of Carmelita's fingers running through his head fur, as he felt his body begin to sink a little deeper into the mattress. The vixen herself was still debating with herself, but her paw remained where it was, as she watched Sly's eyes flutter closed. Eventually he drifted off into a medication induced sleep, his soft snores echoing in the room.

Another sigh escaped from her, so she stayed where she was at the edge of his bed, watching. The way his fur was mussed all over his cheeks, and the way his ears twitched every once in a while to indicate he was dreaming, had Carmelita wondering why she had distanced herself from him. Sly was certainly handsome (and he knew it too), but it didn't matter to Carmelita. Before her own doubts about the robberies had come into play, the vixen had found herself deeply taken by the raccoon.

He always seemed so sure of himself, and he never missed a beat to compliment her appearance. Of course, she knew that he wasn't all about appearance, and that he loved her for being who she was, despite all of her flaws. Biting her lip, Carmelita stopped her actions, and pulled her paw away from Sly, unsure if she even had the right to continue being loved by him. Sly was always truthful to her, being that whenever he spoke of the vixen, or complimented her, there was a certain sincerity in his brown eyes that had Carmelita's heart skipping a beat.

And regardless of the fact that the two were having a bit of difficulty in their relationship now, what with the vixen pushing Sly away slightly, he never seemed to let it get him down. If anything, he tried even harder to seem like everything was fine between them, which the vixen found herself wondering why she hadn't tried to do the same.

Her paw ran through her hair, her gaze fixed on Sly's slumbering form.

Surely, he hadn't gone back to thieving, and yet every time she tried to tell herself that, nothing else jumped up to change her mind. Her doubts were now starting to cloud her mind, and Carmelita wasn't sure she'd be able to handle it anymore.

She took another look over him, and shook her head, deciding to instead go home and take a nap herself. Taking a moment to stretch, she made her way into the living room, and shut off the TV. Grabbing her coat, and keys from a small tray on Sly's kitchen table, she also scribbled a quick note to let him know that she was going back to her own apartment for a while, and that she'd be back. Once she was sure the door was locked, she left to get her car, and drove back to her apartment, eager to sleep, and escape her thoughts. Things had been stressful lately, and although Sly had been off work to recuperate, he had to be back in the very next day. Carmelita herself had been working for a majority of the time, but Chief Barkley had been kind enough to allow her to take a few days off herself; most of those days had been spent taking care of Sly.

A yawn threatened to escape from her as she drove leisurely towards her apartment, but she managed to stifle it, blinking away the exhaustion she felt. It was getting harder to keep herself awake, even though she was close to her apartment now. When it came into view, she easily drove into her designated parking space, made sure the alarm on her car was set, and made her way to the fifth floor in the apartment building. The route was so familiar, Carmelita barely had to think as she unlocked the door to the apartment, pulled her jacket off to hang, and dropped herself onto the couch. She had absolutely no energy to go all the way to her bedroom.

Another yawn escaped from her, so she grabbed a pillow, got herself comfortable, and began to feel the pulls of sleep on her mind.

Unfortunately for Carmelita, her dreams were no less stressful than her waking moments.

* * *

_Carmelita felt like her lungs were going to burst with her constant gasping pulls of air. Her legs also felt as though they were on fire along with the muscles all over her body, as the vixen continued to dodge, roll, and dive behind crates in order to avoid the bullets being shot at her. Catching the harsh pants from behind her, along with a few loud gunshots, she knew that Dominic was right behind her, somehow keeping up with her athletic nature. It wasn't uncommon knowledge that Dominic wasn't exactly the fittest of officers at Interpol, but that would change with time as he became more accustomed to his training._

"_Inspector!" he suddenly cried, grabbing her arm, just as she was about to dive behind another crate. They were both now very close to the warehouse, and Carmelita's ears flattened against her skull to hear very loud cursing, and shouts from inside._

"What?_" she demanded, trying to pull her arm away, but his paw was firm on her upper arm, almost to the point of hurting. "Let me go, Constable Bordeaux! That's an order!"_

_Dominic's hazel eyes blazed with a determination she had yet to see, as he said one word: "No."_

_The fur all over Carmelita's body bristled with indignation._

"_We have to get into that warehouse, and make sure Inspector Nathans, and Constable Cooper are alright!" she argued, gritting her teeth. The panic from before was completely fuelling her need to get into that warehouse. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she was just becoming aware of the stinging cuts all over her body from rolling against the gravel, and from bullets clipping her. Even as the two of them began to argue back and forth, another window shattered from the warehouse, the shouting and gunshots from inside now louder than ever._

_"Then let Chief De Luca, and back up get here!" he shouted back to her, sounding equally as angry._

_That was enough to make Carmelita's grab Dominic's wrist, and twist it away. He gave a cry of pain, nearly falling to writhe on the ground if Carmelita hadn't grabbed, and held him up. _

"_If you don't want to come and help me, _fine!_"_ _she growled, not even heeding the small whimpers of pain Dominic gave, his hazel eyes wide, and fearful. "But you're _not_ going to stop me!"_

"_Okay, okay!" Dominic cried desperately, trying in vain to make her let go of his twisted wrist. She did so, making him cradle his arm close to his chest. Trying to catch his breath, the canine looked up at her with wide eyes, and said, "y-you're not going to stop, are you?"_

_Shooting him an incredulous looking, she shouted, "of course not!"_

_Before he could utter another word of protest, Carmelita was off, sending another bullet rocketing towards a thug who had just ambled out of the shadows. He went down with a yowl of pain, blood spurting from a bullet wound in his abdomen. Carmelita ignored it, and pressed herself into the shadows, stiffening slightly when her ears caught the faint sound of sirens in the distance. Her distress call, and the gunshots had obviously caught De Luca's attention, and they were now getting the back up requested. However, her panic didn't fade in the slightest, and she ran forward again. She _needed_ to see that Sly was okay. Her jaw clenched tightly to the point she felt like her teeth would crack from the pressure, but Carmelita pushed herself off the wall of the warehouse, and rushed forward, trying to find a way inside. _

_Footsteps caught up with her, so she looked over to see that Dominic had joined her again, this time looking a bit less unsure than before. _

"_There's a door over there," he pointed out to one that looked as though someone had burst through it. The metal door hung off one hinge, creaking whenever a light breeze pushed it. Even as they watched, a couple more thugs fled from inside, obviously having heard the sirens from outside which were now louder than ever. Carmelita's eyes caught police lights blazing in the distance, getting closer, and closer. Nodding in acknowledgement of his good work, the two of them rushed into the door, dodging behind a couple of crates that had fallen, and burst open, strewing their contents all over the floor. Immediately, the deafening sounds of shouting, gunshots, and people running filled her ears, causing the vixen to flatten them even further against her skull. The scent of blood filled her nostrils, making her feel slightly sick to her stomach. Dominic looked the same way, his face paling, and swallowing hard. _

_Carmelita whipped her head around to try and spot anything that could point out that Sly, or Liam was around._

"I hope your idea isn't going to get us killed!_" Liam's voice overpowered most of the gunshots, and shouting._

_She finally spotted the panther with his upper body lying across a crate as his Glock fired off a rapid succession of 12 shots, before he ducked back down for cover to reload. Before he had ducked back behind, Carmelita saw that Liam appeared to be just as battered as herself, and Dominic, with small cuts on his cheeks, and arms. Just as she was starting to panic slightly at where Sly was, she saw another figure dart away from Liam's position, that she quickly deduced was the raccoon himself. However, she wondered why he was running away, until she heard a crash from the large doors to the front. _

_Whipping her head over, she saw the doors buckling under what she could only assume was their back up trying to storm the place. Shouts and cries of pandemonium from the workers still inside reached their ears, causing the both Carmelita, and Dominic to wince, as the workers began to panic due to the fact that they could very well be thrown into jail right at that point in time. From her vantage point, Carmelita could see that the doors were now starting to give, bubbling outward._

_Dominic's face had paled even more, and he shouted over the screaming, and gunshots, "what do we do now?"_

"_Shoot, you idiot!" she shouted back. _

_Clicking the hammer back, Carmelita dove out from behind the crates, shooting at whatever target presented itself to her. Blood sprayed from various gunshot wounds, many of the workers and thugs falling to the ground in agony, or some silently. She ignored it all, to continue firing at whoever proved to be lethal._

_She caught a figure running towards the stairs, and she went to aim for them, but paused when she recognized the ringed tail. _

_"Sly!"_

_However, he either didn't acknowledge her call, or didn't hear her._

_Relief to see that he seemed relatively unharmed, with the exception of a dark stain on his shoulder, and his missing bulletproof vest, coursed through her veins, but her attention was brought back when there was a loud crash from behind. Looking back, she saw that their back up had finally burst through the doors, as groups of officers in full riot gear stormed the warehouse. The shooters all went down in a flurry of shouts, and gunshots, their bullets bouncing harmlessly off the riot shields the officers all bore. From just behind those officers, Carmelita spotted De Luca come forward, shooting down anyone that happened to try and get in his way, as he stormed the area, brown eyes sweeping everything. _

_She knew that their back up would be able to handle the chaos, so she ran forward to where Sly was still running up the stairs to an office Carmelita hadn't noticed before. It was there that she realized that a tall wolverine - Yorath to be exact - was fleeing the scene. Anger at the thought that all of this would be for naught if Yorath escaped, pumped more adrenaline into her body, causing Carmelita to rush forward and follow Sly up the stairs._

_Sly's pistol was in paw, and he paused at the top of the stairs, to try and possibly scare Yorath into stopping with a bullet, when a lion that neither herself, nor Sly had noticed appeared, and tackled Sly around the middle. The raccoon let out a shout of surprise, the two of them tumbling down the stairs in a tangle of limbs, and fur._

_Carmelita neared to hear Sly cry out painfully, when his head cracked heavily against a crate, his body going slightly limp. The lion took the opportunity to straddle Sly's chest, and rain punches down on the raccoon, who was too disoriented from the hit in the head to defend himself. Blood burst from Sly's nose, who groaned loudly, and tried his best to lessen the damage on his body. A sudden flurry of panic, and anger made Carmelita ignore everything else, and aim her Glock directly at the lion's back. There was a loud bang, and the lion let out a loud yowl of pain, and fell onto his side beside Sly, writhing in pain; the bullet had penetrated right into one of his shoulder blades._

_Rushing forward, she struck the lion in the head to shut him up, and kneeled next to Sly. He inhaled sharply as she helped him sit up. Warm blood leaked onto her fingers, and when she pressed her paw against the back of his head, he tensed up, moaning in pain._

"_Sorry," she gasped out. The gunshots from before had begun to lessen now, leaving an odd ringing in her ears, and she was aware of a few officers making their way towards her position. But she ignored it all, easing her shaking fingers to the bleeding wounds on Sly. The raccoon tried his best to sit up under his own power, but his eyes were fluttering slightly, blood leaking from his nose, and head. Everything else went ignored by the vixen, as the panic once more settled into her very bones, making her body shake, and tears well in her eyes._

_Sly looked up at her, and tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it came off as more of a grimace. _

"_I'm… fine," he murmured softly, sounding sluggish, and tired. Footsteps caused her to look up, and she saw Liam was running forward, worry knitting his brows together. "Come on, l-let's… go get ready to get Y-Yorath."_

_She looked down at him again, and shook her head. Somehow, although she knew that he might not die from the wounds, the fact that her fears of him being hurt to the point that he was starting to loose consciousness, was making Carmelita feel lost, and angry at herself. She couldn't believe how she'd been acting towards Sly over the past few months, and she wanted to kick herself for being so stupid. _

"_Y-you're not okay, Ringtail," she stammered, his old pet name coming out before she could stop it._

_A tired looking grin crossed his features, as his eyes slide shut. "I've really… missed that nickname…"_

_Carmelita sucked in a sharp breath. Numbness crossed through her body, feeling as though the rug had been pulled out from under her. She looked down at him, stunned at what he had just said, but he had already lose consciousness, and his body became limp in hers. Liam was now at her side, trying to pry her arms away from his body, and somehow throughout all the chaos she let Sly go. More officers surrounded her, checking to see if she was okay, and to arrest the unconscious lion beside her._

_She was unaware of it all, as Sly's last words echoed in her head, over, and over again._

**_I've really missed that nickname…_**

* * *

Vibrations all across her back caused Carmelita to start awake suddenly, a shrill ringing sound making its way into her ears. A yelp of shock escaped her muzzle, as she sat up on her couch, disoriented and panicked. Her apartment was dark, a clear sign that she had slept most of the late afternoon away, and a quick glance at her clock told her it was nearly 1 AM. Her paws ran through her tangled mass of curls shakily, as she tried to calm her breathing down, feeling as though she were still somehow in the dream she'd just had. Well, it was more like a memory. Sly's words were still echoing in her ears, and she let out a shaky breath, burying her face into her paws.

Her phone continued to vibrate and ring, so unable to ignore it, she dug into her pockets for it. She frowned when she saw a number she didn't recognize on the display.

Despite that, she flipped it open and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"

"I-Inspector Fox!" came a panicked, and breathless voice. She instantly recognized the voice, her ears flying upwards in surprise.

"Dom- I mean, Constable Bordeaux? How did you get my number?" She sighed softly, rubbing at her eyes to get rid of the grit there. Her body still felt drained, and she was debating on hanging up on the dingo, considering that Dominic liked to talk people's ears off.

"That doesn't matter!" he squeaked slightly. A frown adorned Carmelita's features, as she began to realize that the younger man appeared to be frightened of… _something_. A loud bang, followed by a yelp of pain had the vixen leaping to her feet.

"Constable!"

"Sorry," Dominic answered soon enough, breathing harshly, and holding back what sounded like a pained tone. "I-I tripped on a trash can. B-but Inspector, I called because I need your help! I was out on patrol at the _Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris_, just minding my own business, and thinking maybe I should go, and get some food, and how cold it is inside, and-"

"Dominic!" Carmelita barked into her phone, this time rushing over to where she hung her holster, and shock pistol, shrugging into her jacket. Something told her she was going to need her shock pistol right now. "Focus!"

"Sorry," he apologized again. "A-anyway, someone tripped an alarm at the museum! I'm trying to follow now, b-but I can't catch up!" There was a pause, as Dominic appeared to be trying to catch his breath again. "They're really fast whoever it is!"

At this point in time, Carmelita was barrelling out her door, locking it quickly behind herself, and leaping down the stairs two at a time. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, as she tried to tell herself this was all just a major coincidence. There was no way something like this could be happening at this point in time. Not now. Not after nearly 2 months of silence.

_Please, don't be what I think it is._

"Are you still there?" she demanded, reaching her car now, and nearly ripping the door handle off to get inside. The engine to her car rumbled to life, and she was pealing out of her parking spot in a haze of smoking tires and exhaust, ignoring some of the mortified looks she received from several pedestrians on the streets.

Dominic stopped speaking, which was followed by a loud bang from his shock pistol. "Y-yeah! I'm trying to keep them busy so they don't escape! The museum is at _11, Avenue du Président Wilson_, y-you know where it is, right?"

"Of course I know where it is!" Carmelita shouted angrily, cranking the wheel of her car roughly so that she changed course suddenly. Screeching horns fell on deaf ears, as Carmelita pressed her foot further on the pedal, trying to get there before said thief managed to escape from Dominic. "I'll be there as soon as I can, and make sure that criminal _doesn't escape!_"

She ended the call abruptly, throwing her phone into the seat beside her. Somehow, she felt nervous, and scared about what she was going to find at the museum. The fact that she was now getting a call, from a Constable who was just on a routine patrol about a robbery, had Carmelita scared beyond belief. Could this be another one of those robberies where Sly might be involved?

A small voice told her to call him now, and check that he was still at his apartment, but she stopped herself from doing so. No, Carmelita wanted to see with her own eyes before she told anyone else about this. The only times she'd ever known about these robberies was the day before, when Chief Barkley, or Commissioner Arks called her to inform her of them. That, and she was too terrified to call Sly. What would she do if he _wasn't_ home?

Her paws tightened on the wheel of her car, the gloves she wore creaking. Anger was now starting to cloud much of her judgement, and the questions that were currently running through her head. Despite the speed she was currently driving at, it still took her about 15 minutes until she reached the _Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris, _where she counted down those minutes herself, panicking more and more. When she arrived, she was jumping out of her car, barely even remembering to shut the door behind herself.

Dominic was waiting for her outside, still panting from his hard run. He rushed forward to say something, when Carmelita grabbed Dominic by the lapel of his jacket, bringing him forward so they were nearly nose, to nose.

"_Where's the thief?_" the vixen demanded. The canine gasped, his hazel eyes widening in fear at being handled so roughly by a superior.

"I-I didn't lose him! T-the thief is o-on the roof now! I was just on m-my way there now!" he stammered uneasily. Lifting his paws up as though trying to show that he wasn't going to try anything, it did nothing to placate Carmelita's anger. When her eyes narrowed dangerously, Dominic squeaked pathetically. "Please, Inspector Fox! I swear I-I'm not lying!"

Growling angrily, Carmelita let him go, Dominic stumbling away from her. He looked up to see that she had taken her shock pistol out, the low hum from it making his ears flatten slightly.

"I-Inspector?"

"Call Interpol, _now_," she barked, turning away from him. "I have a criminal to catch."

Before he could utter a single word of protest, Carmelita rushed forward, keeping her eyes trained on the rooftop of the _Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris_. She ignored the large pool set right in the middle of the grounds, where the water shimmered brightly in the light from the lampposts outside. It would have normally been serene, had Carmelita not been a woman on a mission at that moment. The almost Greek inspired building, with large stone columns, stone murals carved into the sides of the building, and stairways leading to an empty café upstairs, all went ignored by her. Frustration began to bubble to the surface, as she realized that she could not see a thing, and the only way she would have been able to make her way up to the roof, would have been to either get inside the actual museum, or climb up the sheer walls.

Just as she was about to rush inside, a shadowed figure running across the edge of the roof caught her eye, and she looked up to see a rather lithe looking figure, with a large bushy tail waving behind them. What looked like a rolled up canvas was tucker under their arm. The figure seemed to notice Carmelita, and looked down at her, pausing mid stride.

For a moment, both of them stood where they were, the figure scrutinizing Carmelita, while Carmelita herself watched every move it made. The moon behind it hid many details from view, with only its silhouetted body shape the only real thing the vixen could discern. She figured it was male, from its broad looking shoulders, and rather thin waist. She also noted the way the figure's bushy tail swished back and forth in the chill wind, and the perked up ears on the side of its head. What also looked like a cap was nestled neatly atop of its head, and even as she watched, the figure took off the cap to wipe its forehead, which gave Carmelita view of tousled head fur on top.

Finally, the figure made a move to flee, causing Carmelita to tense and shout, "freeze!"

However, instead of fleeing, the figure threw something down at her.

Surprise stopped the vixen from pressing the trigger, as she watched a small piece of what seemed to be paper flutter downwards, dancing in the wind. She watched its descent, until it landed neatly at her feet.

Carmelita's lungs seemed to freeze over, making her unable to breathe, as she stared down at the one thing she didn't want to ever see again in her life. The blue, and white raccoon head mocked her from its perch on the ground, where she numbly picked it up in shaking fingers. She could barely breathe now, as the entire world seemed to tilt on its axis, to the point that she reached a paw out, and caught herself on the wall of the museum. Her eyes were focused solely on the calling card, fingers shaking, and breath short.

She looked up again, trying to breathe through her shock, and sheer anger, and saw that the figure was still watching.

At this point, something snapped inside the vixen, and she crumpled the calling card in paw, stuffing it mindlessly into her pocket. Her shock pistol blared to life, and she shouted at the figure atop the building.

"_**COOPER!**_"

A chuckle came from the figure, propelling Carmelita into shooting her pistol without a second thought, followed by her chasing from the ground when the thief leapt from his position, and landed on another section of roof. Panting from the emotional upheaval, Carmelita gave chase, shooting wildly to try, and get the criminal to stop. Each time she shot, he flipped into the air, landing easily on small points, on ledges, and even on power lines as he continued to run from Carmelita. Not a single shot came close to hitting the thief, even with her pinpoint accuracy. Carmelita was a pretty good shot with her firearms, but all of her shots always seemed to miss by a hairs breadth on the thief's tail, or feet. Carmelita was once again brought back to those old days, where she would be chasing desperately after Sly, until her lungs burned, and her legs gave out from under her.

Finally, at one point in the chase, she was able to find a low enough building where she could use the ledges of the balconies to her advantage, and get onto the rooftops. Her legs barely felt the strain of her running, and of her jumping, her sights focused solely on the ringed tail running from her. Her thoughts were a whirlwind. The anger from before was now starting to trickle into doubt.

It couldn't be Cooper.

Sly was currently at home, healing from his wounds, and there was no way he could be moving this smoothly, right? However, even as she continued on her chase, Carmelita's eyes widened to see that the figure up ahead seemed to be favouring his right shoulder, leaping in ways that lessened the strain on it. Now watching the figure critically, even she had to admit that he moved exactly how she remembered Sly to move during their chases. From the way the figure leaped, to the way it spun every time it landed on a point, or power line was exactly as Sly used to do. It was too perfect _not_ to be him. And the one thing that made her heart wrench every time she saw it flash, was that cane.

_That damnable cane._

"_FREEZE, CRIMINAL!_" she bellowed at the running figure. The figure looked back her, and she could swear she saw a glint of a smirk.

_His _smirk.

Carmelita's jaw clenched tightly. Her shock pistol fixed onto the fleeing figure's back, and her finger was just about to press on the trigger, when something stopped her.

"Catch me if you can, Carm!" sang Sly's voice from the figure.

Immediately, Carmelita froze where she was, her shock pistol still poised to strike. That was it. There was no way she could dissuade her own doubts. Sly really _had _gone back to thieving behind her back. Tears began to blur her vision, and once more her shot missed, this time by at least a metre.

Sly chuckled from his position atop a TV antennae. He flashed a grin at her. "Oh, Carm, when will you ever learn you can't hit me with your horrible aim?"

She dashed forward, this time ignoring the fact that she had a perfect shot to make him stop. All of her focus went into her rage, to her _need_ to throttle the raccoon right then and there for lying to her face for all these months, and for going behind her back and stealing. But before she could even get close, Sly laughed heartily again, back flipping from the antennae, and off the edge of the building to the ground below. Just as Carmelita reached the edge, and looked down, she saw nothing. The streets were completely empty.

There was no sign of Cooper at all, and even as she strained to see, she couldn't see a single trace of where he could have gone.

Of course, this did nothing to exhaust her rage. If anything, it caused it to become even worse, as one thing came to mind for the vixen.

_He went back home._

* * *

"-oday in entertainment news, Harry L-"

"We'll be right back afte-"

"-just add a pinch of salt, and before you kno-"

Sly sighed, shutting the TV off. There was nothing on that interested him, and although it was late, his nap from before had completely thrown off his sleep schedule. He was now wide awake, and although he knew he had to be in at work again in the morning, he felt no urge to make himself sleep. Stealing a look at his clock, he saw it was nearly 2 in the morning, causing the raccoon to groan. He also reminded himself of the note that Carmelita had left for him, and wondered why she hadn't yet returned as her note had promised.

_Maybe she's taking the night off, to get some sleep._

Stretching, he stood, and winced when the stitches on his shoulder pulled. He rolled his bad shoulder as he walked into the kitchen to get some sort of snack before he forced himself to sleep again. A quick search of his fridge found him pulling out a small container of jell-o that Carmelita had brought him a few days ago, and half a sandwich that was leftover from before. With his snack all set to go, Sly went to sit himself on the couch again to try and find something to watch, when loud knocking came from his door.

He started, his brows raising at the idea that someone was visiting so late, but he realized it could just be Carmelita coming back from her apartment. However, the way the door shuddered in its place, it sounded more like someone was trying to break his door in. Light murmurs from outside, told Sly that tenants from the apartments beside him had gone out of their own apartments to investigate the noise.

As he neared the door, he heard someone scream, and he realized then that it was Carmelita. Footsteps immediately retreated, and his sensitive hearing caught the muffled sounds of doors slamming shut. Without hesitation, he opened the door to his apartment, feeling somewhat fearful about what could have Carmelita so riled up.

Did something happen while he was asleep? Was she okay?

He opened the door widely, fully expecting for Carmelita to burst into his apartment in a wild panic. What he hadn't expected, was to find a furious looking vixen, panting harshly, and eyes blazing with anger.

Carmelita's shock pistol whirred to life, a wash of blue now focusing over Sly's chest. He could literally feel the heat from the pistol, a clear sign that it was on the highest setting possible. His eyes widened significantly, as the raccoon stepped back slightly. She followed his every step, the two now fully inside his apartment.

She kicked the door shut, the loud slam reverberating in the small apartment.

"Carm, what are you-"

"You're under arrest, criminal!" Carmelita snarled, her fur bristling. Her paws shook slightly on the shock pistol she kept levelled towards Sly's chest, hovering right over his heart. "I can't believe you lied to me!"

_Oh hell, this is not good…_

* * *

**Well, there we are. I know I say this a lot, but I really hope this wasn't boring for you guys, haha. Like I said before, this story is now going to pick up speed from here on out. So hold onto your hats, and keep your arms and hands inside the vehicle at all times, because this is going to get rough. Is this a hint for what's to come? **

**Certainly not.**


	13. Shot Yourself in the Foot Again

**Finally, we have an update. **

**Sorry about the delay folks, but school is seriously sapping me of all my creative juices atm. That's what I get for going to art college I suppose, haha. Anyway, I'm a little surprised by the positive responses from the last chapter! Thanks a lot guys, for the support, and love for it, despite some of the hiccups I went through, trying to make everything flow, and work out to make it enjoyable for you guys.**

**Anyway, enough of me rambling. Onward to the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 13: Shot Yourself in the Foot Again

* * *

The silence in the apartment was overbearing, pressing upon the vixen, and raccoon like a heavy cloud. Only the hum from a ready to fire shock pistol managed to break the stillness, but even then, Sly had no words to speak with, only wincing when an acute, burning sensation spread from the tip of her pistol she pressed into his chest. Despite the pain, he refused to move a single muscle. Sly knew that if she were to get a bullet off, that he'd be unconscious - or possibly dead - before he hit the floor. He simply stared down at her in shocked silence, his mind racing with countless ideas on how to get out of this situation. Should he play dumb, and pretend he had no clue what she was speaking about? Would a joke to break the ice be good? Or should he bare his teeth, and tell Carmelita the truth? The raccoon already had a suspicion as to what Carmelita might be referring to, but his mind was drawing blanks on how to actually deal with it.

Sly had always believed that whenever she found out about his feigned amnesia, that it'd be on his own terms; not like this.

"_Well?_"Carmelita bellowed, while digging her pistol even further into his chest. "Do you have nothing to say, _Cooper?_"

Sly winced once more, this time not from the pain in his chest, but from the sheer amount of venom dripping from the vixen's voice. The way she had spat his name out, was hurtful, but despite that, he didn't say anything to protest against it. He swallowed loudly, to try and keep his voice as steady as possible. He'd finally decided on what to say, and he seriously hoped that it wasn't going to get himself shot because of it.

"I-I'm not sure what you mean, Carm,"

Much to his horror, her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she pressed the pistol even further into his chest, causing the former thief to take a step back to try and edge away from it. She followed him with every step, as though she were a predator stalking her prey.

"What do you mean, _'you don't know?'_" she repeated with a low hiss to her voice. Carmelita was now up close, and personal with Sly, their noses nearly touching.

Sly blinked, and although the situation was currently tense, he allowed a soft chuckle to escape, in an attempt to calm his nerves down. However, Carmelita quickly shifted her pistol upwards, so that it nudged against his neck, hitting him right in the Adam's apple. This time, his flesh seared from the heat, but Sly tried not to wince, swallowing loudly.

_Alright, that wasn't smart to do._

"Carm, I swear, I don't know what you're talking about. Please, just put the pistol down so we can talk this through, alright? What do you say?"

"Hell no," she snapped, pushing the pistol even further into Sly's neck. Forced to take a few steps back, the raccoon felt his hips hit against the armrest of his couch. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up stepping too far back, and end up sprawling onto the couch. As much as that would have appealed to him a few months ago, Sly knew it would be dangerous for that to happen now, as Carmelita would obviously seize the chance to take him down. "You have _one_ chance to tell me the truth, Cooper. Or I'm shooting you right here, right now."

With that ultimatum in place, Sly knew he had no choice, but to try and lie through his teeth. Sweat had begun to bead under his fur, and his shoulder was aching something fierce from being held aloft for so long, but he ignored it to concentrate on the task at hand.

He only hoped he was doing the right thing.

"Look…" Sly started, his voice strained. "I have no clue what you're talking about here. If you'd just talk this out calmly with me, you'll see this is just a huge misunderstanding. Please, Carm."

Slowly, the raccoon reached a paw out, and placed it gently on Carmelita's shoulder, squeezing lightly in a show of affection. Despite the slight trembling in his paws, and the fact that the vixen's eyes narrowed dangerously once more, she didn't pull the trigger as he thought she might. He let out a small breath, and looked imploringly into her eyes. Carmelita's anger seemed to wane away, just slightly. Her finger weakened its hold on the trigger, but she had yet to actually move her shock pistol away. But Sly could deal with that, even if the barrel of the gun made swallowing difficult. There was a pause, before Carmelita said, "fine."

She let her pistol fall from its position now, which had Sly breathing much easier than before. However, the tension from her body never left.

"Okay," he said as slowly as possible, trying to be careful with what he said. "Now that I'm not trying to talk around the barrel of a pistol… Carm, you have to believe me when I say I have no clue what you're talking about. Just… explain to me what happened, alright? Maybe this way you'll believe me."

Silence fell over them for a moment. Carmelita appeared to be unsure on if she wanted to go along with what Sly was saying to her, but she conceded ever so slightly.

"I saw you tonight," she finally said. "At the _Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris_. Dominic called, and told me that there was a thief at the museum, and when I went, I saw _you _there, Cooper!"

Sly's mouth opened for a moment, his jaw agape as he took in what Carmelita had just said. It was one thing to be suspected of a crime, based solely on fingerprints found at the scene, but to actually have someone tell him to his face that they _saw_ him running from the scene of the crime, was a whole different thing. Especially since, Carmelita seemed dead set on thinking it was him. He swallowed.

"I-is that it then?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she barked out, "now, you explain to me what you were doing tonight."

"I was here at home," Sly explained. "I was waiting up for you to come back from your apartment, but you never did. So I watched a movie for a bit, and was making myself a snack, when you knocked."

To emphasis his point, the raccoon gestured towards the table in the kitchen, where he'd left his snack. Carmelita followed his gesture, but still looked entirely unconvinced. She focused her gaze back on him.

"You could have set that up before I got here," she said in a heated tone.

"Carm, you're being a bit ridiculous here," Sly chuckled softly, instantly silencing himself when Carmelita's paw tightened on her pistol's grip. _Bad move. _"But seriously, you know I wouldn't lie to you about this sort of thing. Whatever happened tonight, whoever you think it might have been… _it wasn't me._"

Silence fell over the two of them once more, as Sly tried to discern what Carmelita might be thinking. But her face was impassive, not a single speck of emotion clear on her features. It brought more shivers crawling up his spine.

"Are you really telling me the truth?" Carmelita asked softly, her voice just as cool as her entire demeanour at the moment.

"I swear, that I am," he responded immediately. He was tempted to say what he usually said in these sorts of situations, but abstained, in fear that the vixen would jump on that one note, and no longer believe anything else he said.

"Then explain this to me."

He watched, as the vixen buried one of her paws into the pocket of her jacket, and pulled out what looked like a crumpled piece of paper. He couldn't exactly see what it was, until Carmelita thrust the now unfolded, yet still wrinkled, piece of card in front of his nose. Eyes widening at realizing what it was, Sly inhaled sharply to see the blue, and white raccoon head held in the angered vixen's fingers. There was no mistaking what it was, and even though he hoped that every time he blinked, it would go away, his prayers weren't answered.

"You recognize it then?" Carmelita demanded in a terse voice, now squeezing the handle of her pistol so hard, that Sly thought he heard it groaning under the pressure.

"Of course I recognize it!" the raccoon said in a sudden panic, knowing that the vixen was very close to shooting him. "Commissioner Arks, and Chief Barkley showed me pictures of it when they interrogated me 2 months ago! I even saw the files, and everything!"

In a sudden whirl of red and gold, Carmelita's shock pistol whipped forward to slam against Sly's head, but thanks to his reflexes honed from years of experience, he leaned back. Air from the hit rustled the fur on Sly's cheeks, as he flipped backwards, landing with a soft thud in a crouch, reminiscent of his thieving days. He grimaced, as he knew that it wasn't going to be easy explain that one away.

"Don't lie to me!" she yelled. "I know that it was you tonight, and I know you're lying to me!"

"It's the truth, Carm! You have to believe me!" Sly begged, straightening. He knew he was repeating himself now, but Sly was hoping that if he continued to plead with Carmelita like this, that she'd see the truth, and calm down enough for her to actually listen. She raised her pistol once more, but didn't press the trigger again. Sly could see the hesitation in her eyes against doing anything that could harm the raccoon, and he knew that she still wanted to believe him. But her anger was taking the wheel in her actions at the moment.

"You had one chance to prove to me that you weren't lying, Cooper. And I don't believe a single word coming out of your mouth! I should have known that you'd always be a criminal, and a liar!"

_Ouch, that hurts._

This wasn't working at all, and Sly knew it.

As the steady humming from Carmelita's shock pistol grew louder, Sly knew that he could only do one other thing in this situation. Hoping beyond hope, that it was the right thing, and that he wasn't shooting himself in the foot, Sly said, "if you really want the truth, then here it is, Carm."

_Success._

Carmelita quirked a brow, looking a bit taken aback by his words. But she continued to point her shock pistol at his chest, the entire firearm actually vibrating. Now that he had her attention, he took another deep breath, and continued.

"The truth is… yes, I _have_ been lying about my amnesia. I've known everything since we first left Kaine Island. And although I knew everything, I didn't do a single thing to try and deceive you, did I?" As he said this, he took a few tentative steps forward, trying to place his paws on her shoulders in order to immobilize her, knowing that if he didn't manage to convince her with this now, that he was screwed. The vixen would not hesitate in the least to shoot him there, if she found his confession unconvincing.

"Yes…" she murmured softly, her shoulders actually beginning to loosen ever so slightly. Sly knew this was encouraging, and carefully placed his paws on her shoulders, shaking slightly himself. Carmelita seemed to notice this, and looked him straight in the eye, a slew of emotions reflected in the dark pools of brown.

"I only did it because I wanted to be with you, Carm. And you know that you wouldn't have agreed to any sort of relationship if I was still a thief." His paws tightened on her shoulders, his own brown eyes, wide, and sincere. He was literally pouring his heart into everything he was saying right now. "There was never any ulterior motive behind this. I would never humiliate, or hurt you, Carm."

Carmelita's paw wavered, her shock pistol drifting ever so slightly downwards, so it was pointed straight at his stomach instead. Sly let out another shaky breath, not even thinking about breaking eye contact with the vixen.

"And it's not like I'm the only one who lied, either," he continued softly. Just as he predicted, the vixen was unable to look him in the eye. "But I don't care that you did."

At this notion, Carmelita's head whipped upwards, her cobalt curls bouncing slightly, as her jaw dropped open. "W-what?"

"I said, I don't care that you lied to me about being a Constable." A certain sense of confidence was starting to trickle into his voice, as he could see that the intensity in her eyes was beginning to fade slowly. "Do you know why?" She didn't answer, but Sly persisted anyway, wanting to get everything out before something else happened. "Because I love you, Carm. Please believe me when I say that."

His paws never left her shoulders, gripping tightly, his eyes pleading with hers to concede defeat. To realize that he wouldn't do something as low as to go back to stealing behind her back. As much as Sly missed the adrenaline from a heist, his brothers at his side, and the fame of being a master thief, none of it compared to being with Carmelita. He knew that he'd never do anything to break the relationship they now had; he only hoped that Carmelita would see it too.

Suffocating silence fell over the two, until Carmelita said, "I'm sorry, Sly."

_Oh shit._

This time, Sly depended entirely upon instinct, not even thinking as he moved. Carmelita's finger had just depressed on the trigger to her shock pistol, when Sly grabbed her wrist, and wrenched it upwards. The recoil from the pistol firing sent shockwaves through both of their arms, Sly gritting his teeth against the pain as it rocketed through his injured shoulder. Mortar and dust fell atop them, like snow, blanketing both of their fur with whiteness, which went ignored by the duo. Both of them wrestled with each other, Carmelita suddenly snarling in anger, and attempting to get her pistol levelled back on Sly, while the raccoon struggled to keep her arm aloft. He was tempted to twist it around, so that he could grab and toss the shock pistol aside, but held back in fear that he might hurt the vixen.

Unfortunately for him, that empathy would be one of things that caused the situation to escalate.

As they continued to grapple with one another, Carmelita's leg shot out, tripping Sly up. He let out a small gasp of air, before they were both tumbling to the floor, Carmelita landing forward into Sly's chest, as he had pulled her down with him. More pain shot up his shoulder, as he landed on it with a loud thud, but he had no time to even flinch, before he felt the heat of Carmelita's shock pistol back on him.

He grabbed her wrist once more, jerking it away just as she depressed the trigger on her shock pistol again. Another loud crack echoed in the apartment, followed by a bang as the shock projectile smashed into something behind them. Papers from several books Sly had kept on a bookcase fluttered around them, along with more thuds as the entire structure collapsed to the wooden floor. The scent of burnt paper, and wood reached his nose, but Sly ignored all of that for now, as he focused entirely on the angered vixen on top of him. With a grunt of effort, Sly twisted Carmelita's wrist, causing her to cry out in pain. Her shock pistol fell from her paw, which Sly quickly shoved away with his free paw, before he flipped both of them over, so that she was on the bottom.

From all the noise they were making, it was a wonder that nobody had come into check on them. Although now that he thought of that, Sly's ears flickered, as he caught the sound of running footsteps from outside, along with what sounded like sirens outside.

_Crap, this is getting bad._

Panting heavily from the exertion at trying to keep the vixen from escaping, he shouted, "_enough, Carm!_"

Her struggles continued, ignorant to his heated tone. She focused her gaze on him, her glare so venomous, that it had Sly wanting to take a step back with his tail between his legs. "_Go to hell, Cooper! _You just admitted to me that you _were_ lying about your amnesia! I won't rest until I have you back behind bars, like the criminal you are! _Let me go!_"

She bucked suddenly, nearly throwing Sly off. He quickly readjusted his grip on her wrists behind her back, searching for something that he could use to hold her down. She was a lot stronger than she looked, as the adrenaline coursing through her veins, along with her anger, was making the vixen a lot formidable than usual. A grimace passed across his face, when he finally spotted a pair of handcuffs glinting from Carmelita's waist; it made him sick to think that he was actually considering to use them.

"I won't until you listen to me!" Sly grunted past clenched teeth, struggling to keep Carmelita down. "I don't know _who_ you saw the museum, but I can promise you, that it wasn't me, Carm! I wouldn't lie to you!"

The vixen's eyes lit up with such fury, it had Sly's ears pinning back, his tail stilling behind him, and the fur on the back of his neck to stand on end. A chill ran up his spine, making the raccoon shudder in alarm.

"_And making me believe you had amnesia is not lying to me?_" she yelled.

Her eyes suddenly shone with unshed tears, and she seemed to be trying to hold them back, by biting down on her lip. However, Sly noticed everything, his grip on her wrists faltering slightly. His own eyes widened slightly, as he realized that telling her the truth had been the wrong thing to do. Not just because she was using it against him to harbour any amount of hate, but because she had truly been hurt by it. His heart seemed to stop beating at seeing Carmelita appear so _broken_.

And he had no one to blame but himself.

Sly swallowed a large lump in his throat. "Carm, that's not-"

"Save it for someone who cares! I'm not falling for your flirtatious comments and lies again!"

She bucked against him once more, this time, throwing her head backwards so it connected heavily with his snout. Sly's hold on her wrists loosened enough for the vixen to throw him off completely, ignoring the loud thud, and muffled groan of pain he gave. Her pistol was just out of reach from her paw, but Carmelita lunged forward anyway, her paw closing upon the grip tightly. Sly was still reeling from the hit to his snout, the pain in it making his eyes water and blur. But his ears perked up the hear the click of a pistol, and he cursed to himself that he hadn't taken the chance to handcuff Carmelita when he had it.

Instinct saved his tail once more, the adrenaline also aiding him into diving to the side. The floor vibrated under his side, the bullet hitting with a loud crack where he'd just been mere seconds ago. He barely had time to inspect the damage, before Sly looked up, and saw that Carmelita had risen to her feet and was aiming for him once more.

Sly grit his teeth, both in frustration, and anger at himself for being so stupid.

But he had no real time to dwell on it, as he rolled away from another bullet, this one hitting one of the windows. It shattered, sending pieces of glass sprinkling onto the streets outside, and a few inside. Sly just managed to dive behind the couch, as more bullets connected with the furniture. The smell of burnt fabric, wood, and plaster was overpowering, and he shivered when a blast of cold air hit him in the back. His mind was focused on how he was going to get out of this, and the only thing that came to mind, was either making a run for it, or somehow cuffing Carmelita so that he could escape relatively unscathed. His ears twitched once more, as the sirens from earlier were now closer than ever. Flickering blue, and red lights danced across the ceiling, and walls, a clear sign the police units were now outside.

Sly had to act _now_.

Taking a deep breath, the raccoon rolled forward, dodging several bullets. He managed to catch a look at Carmelita's face, and saw that anger had now contorted her features, her fur bristling all across her body. From the looks of it, her pistol was starting to over heat, and an idea flashed before Sly's eyes.

Using his reflexes honed from years of thieving, Sly dipped, dodged, and flipped away from any of the projectiles shot his way. His apartment was being ruined, but he didn't care about it at this point; all that mattered was getting away without hurting himself, or Carmelita.

A sudden click, followed by the hum of a pistol powering down, shocked Carmelita into a seething silence. In a fit of rage, she threw the shock pistol aside, the firearm scrapping along the floor.

_Bingo._

Before the vixen could react, Sly dove forward, catching Carmelita around the middle. They fell into a heap, both of their bodies thudding painfully against the floor, as Sly's paws quickly, and without Carmelita noticing, pilfered the handcuffs from her belt. Now, he just had to find a way to get her turned around so he could handcuff her. However, she growled at him, and before Sly could react properly, she threw a right hook. The punch caught him in the jaw, sending him faltering away from her. Although the ache in his jaw sent slight tears into his eyes, he grabbed her wrist again, just as Carmelita was about to punch him once more.

Their position was reminiscent from before, but Sly had a plan this time, that didn't involve trying to talk his way out of it. There was no way that the raccoon could get Carmelita onto her back, and was about to handcuff her paws together, when he realized that their brawling had led them close to the radiator. Glass from a lamp glistened on the floor around it, but Sly knew that he could get her over there, he could handcuff her to the place, and then slip out the window.

He could still see the lights flickering on the walls, and knew that the officers were most likely in the building at that moment.

Another grunt of effort escaped him, as he flipped Carmelita over, so that she landed roughly on her back. He could now feel the full heated glare on him, as he struggled to get her paw up towards the radiator. Carmelita seemed to have noticed the fact that he was trying to cuff her there, and fought like a wildcat, punching anything on his body that she could reach.

He had to bite back a curse when one of her fists slammed into his right shoulder. The muscles there screamed in protest, but he ignored it to try and get through his task at hand. Her leg lashed out, and hit him in the shin, but he ignored that as well, determination clouding much of the pain.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the cuffs closed across her wrist, quelling much of her activity. He took the chance to close the other end on the radiator, and scrambled away from her. His back hit against his damaged couch, where he sat there for a moment, just staring at everything around him.

The apartment was a mess, with vase, and lamp shards thrown across the floor. Many of the items he had kept in the apartment were ruined, and although the window was broken at the moment, it did nothing to disguise the acrid smell of burnt paper, and wood.

Carmelita appeared shocked at what had happened, her mouth agape as she looked up at her cuffed wrist. Then an angry hiss escaped from her, as the shock appeared to wear off. "_How dare you_… Take these off, _now_, Cooper!"

Even through the anger that was evident on her face, Sly could still see the distant look of hurt in her eyes. It made him want to shrivel up, and blow away in the wind, because he knew that it was his fault that she was feeling like this. He took a moment to try and catch his breath.

"I'm so sorry, Carm," Sly managed to say. His heart was still pounding, and although he knew that this was not the ideal situation in the least, it had to be done. "I didn't want for this to happen. Not at all."

She opened his mouth to retort angrily, but stopped when pounding footsteps sounded from the hallway outside. Sly's ears perked up, and he cursed loudly, knowing that Interpol was now in the vicinity.

"Shit," the raccoon spat. He quickly rose to his feet, but paused in his run to the window, his only form of escape. A look down at the vixen, who still appeared wholly enraged with the situation, had him swallowing loudly. Before he could stop himself, Sly crouched down next to her, unmindful of the footsteps, and shouts that were now getting closer. "Carm, I'm sorry this had to happen. Just know, that I love you, and I'm going to prove to you that I'm not responsible for those robberies."

He leaned forward, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, which - surprisingly - Carmelita made no move to avoid. When he pulled away, she was staring at him, wide eyed, and gob smacked. But Sly swore he saw a flicker of trust in her eyes. He offered her a weak smile, before he stood, and ran towards the window. As quickly as he could, without cutting himself on the glass still on the windowsill, he leapt out, his paw grabbing the pipe that ran just beside his window.

Climbing up was easy enough, and before Sly could regret his decision, he ran off, knowing exactly where he was going to go now.

* * *

It was certainly lucky, that Liam had been the one of the officers who had received a call from the apartment building Sly lived at. The panther had found it a bit disconcerting, considering the fact that he had instantly recognized the address called in, and hadn't hesitated in telling Interpol that he, and Constable Cameron Hayes, a younger looking ferret who was on patrol with him, were on their way there.

But Liam had certainly not been expecting to walk into a nearly destroyed apartment that looked as though a battle had taken place. His nose scrunched up at the strong smell of burnt plaster, wood, and fabric, as he stepped inside. One of the windows in the living room had been broken, letting in the cold air from outside inside. The door had been unlocked after he'd tested with a terse knock. So Liam had let himself in, telling the Constable Hayes to stay outside for a moment.

Hayes had agreed, ushering some of the tenants from the other apartments back into their abodes, who had all gathered around Sly's apartment. The crowd had obviously been worried, and Liam had quickly exchanged words with the older female hare, who had been the one to place the call in the first place, before he'd made his way inside.

Stepping forward into the somewhat darkened apartment, Liam called out, "hello? You guys home at all?"

He felt apprehensive at the scene before him, especially because he knew this was Sly's apartment. The only thing they'd managed to get out of the older hare, was that there were gunshots, and shouts from inside the apartment. Liam silently wondered if someone had broken into Sly's apartment, in an attempt to rob him, but wasn't entirely sure of the case. However, as he walked in, he stopped in his tracks, when he recognized the red, and cream furred vixen, seated on the floor with one of her arms lifted in the air from being handcuffed to a radiator.

Liam was immediately rushing forward. "Holy shit. What happened, Carmelita? Are you alright? Where the hell is Sly?"

At the mention of the raccoon's name, Carmelita's fur bristled. But she didn't say a word, instead, appearing to almost deflate under his gaze. Liam spotted what looked like tears in her eyes, and his own widened considerably.

"Shit, did something happen to him?" he asked in a moment of panic. Taking another look around, he figured that something may have happened to his raccoon friend, and Liam wasn't sure if sitting here, speaking with Carmelita, was the best thing to do when Sly was out there somewhere. "What the hell happened here?"

"I…" her voice trailed off slightly, before she shook her head. "Just help me out of these, please."

From the tone of her voice, it was obvious she was defeated. Liam took a quick moment to look her over, checking to see if there were any injuries on her, but found nothing, much to his relief. So he reached into one of the pockets on her jacket, and found a small key, which he deftly used to unlock the cuffs from her wrists. Then, he helped her stand, looking at her with worried green eyes.

"Are you sure you're alright? What happened?" he gestured towards the ruined apartment around them. Carmelita swallowed.

"Liam, do you have a phone? There's something I need to tell… Commissioner Arks."

His brows lifted at this. Liam looked her up and down, shocked at her sudden proclamation. "Carmelita, what-"

"Just give me the phone," she snapped back, the old fiery deposition that the vixen usually had coming back. Given by the look in her eyes, there was no room for arguments, so Liam simply shrugged, and handed her his cell phone.

She was immediately dialling the number to Interpol's headquarters, and was soon demanding to speak with Commissioner Arks, or to at least have his personal number. According to the vixen, this was an emergency, and although Liam was desperate to hear, he also knew that he had a job to do, and that was calling a bit of precedence over his worry about the raccoon.

So he walked to the door, and called Hayes aside, to let the ferret know that he needed to contact Interpol, and get another unit there. Once Hayes was rushing back to the car, Liam turned back to see that Carmelita was delegating something past a teary looking face, which had his throat clenching tightly.

Liam scratched at the rough fur on his chin, and sighed softly. His ears flickering slightly as he heard the ever calm voice of the Commissioner on the other end of the phone, but of course, could not understand a word he was saying. Another glance at the ruined apartment, had a chill crawling up his spine, as he wondered just what the hell could have happened.

_Hope you didn't do anything stupid, Sly._

* * *

Panting heavily, Sly finally allowed himself to take a small break from his run.

He leaned forward on his knees, trying to catch his breath, wincing when his shoulder screamed in protest against his sudden movements. But he ignored it, and looked around himself quickly, to see if Carmelita had yet to follow him. Luck seemed to be on his side again, as there was no indication to show that the vixen, or anyone else had followed.

He took another deep breath, before straightening.

It was cold outside, and quiet, as he figured it was pretty late in the night. He wished he had some sort of watch to let him know exactly what time it was, but that had been the last thing on his mind after everything that had happened. He rubbed idly at his shoulder, as he walked forward to the edge of the building, and looked down to see if there were many people on the streets. It was still, with leaves and discarded newspapers swirling around in the wind. The occasional car would pass by, some people already awake and heading off to work. In the distant horizon, Sly could just see a small line of gold light, a hint that it was close to sunrise. It had to have been hours since everything had happened.

Sirens in the distance had Sly crouching slightly, but he knew there was no way that they could have followed him. Hell, he wasn't even sure if they were even sounding for himself. But considering how close he'd come to Interpol barging into the apartment while he was still there, Sly figured he had more than enough reason to be paranoid. He looked for a way down from the rooftop, and spotted a fire escape that would suffice.

Jogging to it, he climbed down carefully, mindful of the painful throbbing in his shoulder. Although he'd only taken one physical blows from it by Carmelita, it still hurt more so from all the activity he'd put it through, and from landing on it so many times. It was a wonder that the stitches hadn't ripped open, but thus far, Sly hadn't felt a single trickle of blood; things were looking up.

Once his feet hit the pavement below, he took off at a swift run. He was lucky that it was late enough for nobody to actually be on the streets. The only worry were the cars on the streets, but they always passed by in a hurry, without any indication of throwing a second glance at the raccoon.

Finally, he was in front of his destination, although he stopped in his tracks.

Rooted to the spot, Sly wasn't sure if he was willing to go along with what he had planned. The white bricked house, with a wooden door set into it, was familiar enough for Sly to feel calm, but he couldn't help the feelings of shame rising up in him. Before he went through with knocking, he silently promised himself that he would act as though everything was still normal. Yes, he was going to tell Bentley about some of the troubles at Interpol, but he wasn't going to go as far as to tell the turtle that he'd nearly been beaten, and thrown into jail. No, Sly planned to let Bentley know some of the barest details, and deal with the rest of it by himself.

_No need to drag the rest of the gang into this…_

The raccoon took a deep breath, steeling himself for this moment. He raised a paw, and knocked purposely on the door, and waited to see if any of them would come out. A swell of cold air hit him, making Sly shiver slightly in the night. He cursed the fact that he only had on a t-shirt and sweatpants.

It had to be somewhere around 10 minutes, before the door cracked open, and Sly grinned sheepishly at the wheel bound turtle, who looked as though he'd been hit on the head with a mallet.

"_S-Sly?_"

* * *

**That's a good place to end it… right? As you all can tell, we've finally caught up with the very first chapter. **

**So from here on out, it isn't 'flashbacks' haha. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as the last one, and again, apologies for the delay in the chapter. I promise to try and get the new one out ASAP, and not leave you hanging, haha. Until next time, fellow readers!**


	14. Player vs Environment

**I'm real sorry for the long wait on this guys. My motivation to continue died again, but fortunately, I managed to get the next chapter out for you guys, so I hope it's worth the wait! Once again, thank you guys so much for all the support, haha. It feels great to see a new e-mail pop up, saying someone has added this story to their favs/watches or has reviewed. Tried not to make this chapter too long, but there was quite a few things I needed to get in there, so I apologize for the length.**

**Also be warned, I'm currently writing and editing this while sick, so cut me some slack of there are some mistakes, and whatnot in the chapter. Perhaps writing while sick is not the best thing to do, but I really felt awful for making you guys wait for a new chapter, so I forced myself to do it, haha. Anyway, go ahead and read on.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized, are mine though.

* * *

Chapter 14: Player .vs. Environment

* * *

Early morning light had now started to filter in through the blinds in the living room, making the raccoon currently lying on the couch stir. Blinking tiredly, Sly yawned, and shifted on the uncomfortable couch.

A glance at the clock on the wall, told him it'd only been half an hour since he'd first gone to try and get some sort of sleep, yet he hadn't been able to escape into it. Groaning slightly, he rubbed his tired eyes with the palm of his paws, and then sat up, shoving the blankets aside. He was exhausted, his eyes now heavy, and his shoulder aching dully, but his brain was going a mile a minute.

Sly's ears perked up slightly, trying to hear if there was any movement deeper into the apartment, and finally managed to pick up the sound of someone typing on a keyboard. A smile tugged at his lips as he stood and stretched, until there was a satisfying crack from his stiffened joints. Silently, he made his way towards the source of noise, already prepared to continue speaking with Bentley about what had happened the night before. Grimacing at the hurtful memories, Sly sighed softly, running a paw through his head fur, before he continued on his way.

He found in one of rooms the couple had converted into an office of sorts, where they had stored many of smaller gadgets and electronics. Bentley was currently seated in front of his laptop, typing away, while Penelope was leaning over his shoulder, pointing out several things to the turtle. The latter of the two looked as though he hadn't slept a wink, garnered by the dark circles under his eyes, and the several empty mugs set beside his elbow. The very sight of it caused guilt to gnaw at Sly.

Finally, unable to delay the inevitable, the raccoon walked into the room, while uttering a soft, "hey," to get both genius' attention.

Penelope looked up, and offered Sly a weak smile. "Good morning."

Bentley hardly looked up from his furious typing. "You're up early."

"So are you," Sly quirked a brow, walking to stand beside Penelope, so that he could see just what the wheelchair bound turtle was up to. It was a bit confusing to say the least, with the way several windows, and files blinked in and out in dizzying swirls of text. Finally unable to stand not being in the know, he asked, "what are you two doing anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Penelope smiled up at the raccoon, making it clear that she wasn't trying to mock Sly in any way. "Bentley's hacking into Interpol database, and looking through the files of all those officers on the list you gave him." To emphasize her point, the mouse held up the scribbled list of several names, some of which had already been crossed off.

"Have you found anything?" Sly asked, leaning forward so that he could see everything closer. The file currently on the monitor was one he recognized, only because of the photo at the top of the information displayed, which showed an aptly dressed coyote with sandy fur, and glasses perched atop his nose. The sight of it had the raccoon wondering what Bentley was doing, and he said, "why are you looking through Commissioner Arks' file? He wasn't on the list."

"Well, I decided it might be best to look through everyone's files while I was in Interpol's database, and the Commissioner seemed like a good place to check out," Bentley replied, clicking away at the files, and skimming through the information shown. "There isn't anything suspicious about the Commissioner's file, so we can cross him off the list. Unless you count the comments someone made about him being overly optimistic. But I doubt he would go out of his way to frame you, unless he was doing so on a personal vendetta."

Sly simply nodded, frowning slightly when he realized that could be true. Although Commissioner Arks did a lot to insure that Sly thought he was a Constable, and was generally friendly to the raccoon, it could still be a ruse. But Sly quickly shook that thought out of his head, when he realized that he couldn't just be pointing fingers. Bentley had already said there wasn't much to pin on the Commissioner when it came to the robberies and Sly wasn't about to doubt the turtle's words.

He leaned against the desk with a soft sigh, and glanced over at Penelope and Bentley.

Silence fell over the small room, with the exception of Bentley's typing, the whir of the computer's fan, and the whispered words between the couple. The turtle yawned suddenly, and took off his glasses to rub at his tired eyes, making Sly's brows furrow slightly. Sly couldn't help but feel more guilt pile atop of the heavy weight in his chest already, considering that he was basically depriving his friend of a well rested night, and normal day at work. Biting down on his lip, Sly felt awful not telling the couple about the entire seriousness of what had happened; he hadn't even told the turtle about how he'd confessed to Carmelita about the truth of his amnesia. The fact that he was trying desperately to hide things from one of his brothers made Sly want to disappear.

He let out a sigh, which went unnoticed by either of the two.

"What is it?" Bentley looked over, while placing his glasses back upon their perch on his nose. Then his face softened, when he saw just how stricken Sly looked. "Hey, cheer up. We'll get you out of this mess before you know it. We always do."

"'We?'" Sly asked, looking a bit taken aback.

Bentley rolled his eyes over at Penelope, who giggled, before shifting his gaze back to Sly. "You know what I mean. You do know, that Penelope and I aren't going to let you deal with this on your own, right?"

Sly frowned. "Well, I suppose not, but you guys don't have to go out of you way for this… I'd be more than happy just knowing if there was any suspicious looking files on Interpol's database. You guys don't need to do anything else but that."

_I can't let you all get involved in this again._

He added the last part more so for himself, but knew it was true. Having to run back to Bentley with his problems, was not something Sly had wanted to do, but given the situation that had been thrust upon him, Sly hadn't had a choice. The raccoon sighed again, then jumped when he felt a paw on his elbow. He looked down, and saw Penelope looking back at him with a concerned light in her brown eyes.

"Sly, honestly," she sighed, "you don't need to feel guilty about any of this. We're more than happy to help, alright?"

Forcing a smile on his face, Sly nodded. Despite the fact that he was feeling guilty, he decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, and try to act as normally as possible. After all, he did make himself a promise not to worry Bentley or Penelope with the seriousness of his situation.

"Hey Sly, do you mind taking a look at this?" came Bentley's voice, forcing him out of his thoughts.

With a shake of his head, the raccoon leaned forward again, to look at what the turtle was pointing at. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Penelope had grabbed most of the empty mugs from the side, and had walked out; probably to give them some time to go over a few more serious matters. Sly shook that out of mind, and refocused on the task at hand, and saw that Bentley had pulled up a very familiar looking file from the database. The portrait of a particularly angry looking dingo stood out at the top of the file, where a scowl adorning the man's thin face stared out at the two as though they had done him a personal wrong. His curly hair was combed back as much as it could be, with a few strands of brown hair escaping the slicked back look, while his amber eyes held no amount of laughter.

But Sly would recognize that face anywhere, even if he hadn't seen the name underneath in black proclaiming the dingo as, 'Philip Bordeaux'.

The turtle looked up at his raccoon friend, noting the scowl that could rival Bordeaux's upon his face. "I take it the two of you are on bad terms?"

"Oh yeah," Sly mumbled, his frown deepening. "Every time he opens his mouth, it's to say something bad about me, or to threaten to expose me for the 'criminal I am.' His words, not mine."

"Well, all his credentials check out," Bentley noted, as he studied the sandy furred dingo. His fingers were soon flying across the keyboard of his laptop, more files and windows popping up on the monitor. "One other thing to note here, is that this Constable Philip Bordeaux has been trying to climb to a higher position at Interpol for the last 2 years, but has been denied at each pass. Either by Chief Barkley, or Commissioner Arks himself. From what's written here, the only reason he hasn't been promoted to Captain, or Inspector isn't because of his skill level, but because of his anger management issues."

Although he'd just heard a bit of important news, Sly couldn't help but bark a laugh at the last thing Bentley had said. "Really? Anger management issues? I don't think I would have _ever_ figured that out myself."

"_Sly..._"

"I'm just kidding pal," Sly grinned, unable to hide the laughter in his voice. It felt good to get rid of his tension like this, especially because he'd truly missed goading the genius turtle. "What else is there that I don't know yet?"

They exchanged a look, before Bentley cleared his throat and turned back to the computer. He typed in a few more items until Dominic's file cropped up. Just like in person, Dominic was the complete opposite of Philip, with his curly hair much wilder, and his wide hazel eyes unable to hold back the toothy grin across his muzzle. "Well, according to this, your 'friend' has a younger brother, who joined Interpol about a year ago."

"I know that already. Dominic likes to talk to me whenever he gets the chance." Sly chuckled slightly. "It's like the two of them can't get enough of me."

Instead of encouraging the raccoon's playful banter, Bentley ignored it. "Well, considering what you just told me about that Philip character… are you sure that the two brothers aren't somehow working together? It'd probably be a good way for you to lower your guard, especially if Dominic is talking to you normally. It's a bit too perfect, don't you think?"

Sly snorted. "Bentley, if Dominic is somehow the mastermind behind these robberies, I'll eat my hat. Seriously, I highly doubt he's in cahoots with his brother. Dominic's too much of a nice guy. Kind of."

A frown pulled at Bentley's lips, as he pulled up a bit more information on Dominic, and then sighed. "Alright, I suppose you're right. But I do think that Philip Bordeaux might be your best bet here. He's already threatened you, and with all his training at Interpol, he's probably the one behind this."

"Right." The raccoon straightened, and sighed. "The only problem is actually proving this. What do you think might be a good idea?"

"Planting a bug in his office would be a good start," Bentley responded. He left his laptop for a moment, to rummage through some of the boxes piled in the room. After a while, he produced a very familiar device, and wheeled back to place it in Sly's outstretched paw. "Use the grapple cam. I know it's risky sneaking into his office, but it's the only thing we can do. But like you said, they'll be expecting you back at Interpol so it shouldn't be a very big deal."

At those words, Sly cringed as he realized that what he'd said about going back to work at Interpol was coming back to bite him. He sighed softly, and shook his head. "Of course. Trust me Bentley, I'll get this in there, and no one will be the wiser." He grinned to show that there wasn't a problem with what he was being asked to do. Bentley nodded, and then wheeled over to the door, beckoning Sly to follow.

"Come on, Penelope is making breakfast, and I'm sure she'll want you to eat before you go back to Interpol."

Sly dropped the grapple cam into his pocket, and followed Bentley back out to the living room, where the smell of freshly cooked eggs and bacon was strong. Penelope was just starting to set plates down on the table, and smiled to see the two males coming out from the room. No words were exchanged between any of them, which was a bit strange to think, but Sly was a bit relieved about it.

Bentley's voice eventually broke through Sly's thoughts again. "I called Murray, by the way."

He froze, and looked over at his friend, aghast at what he'd just been told. Penelope grinned widely at seeing the raccoon's face, knowing exactly what he was going to say. Before Sly could utter a single sound, Bentley put a hand up, and stared sternly at his friend.

"Before you start arguing, listen to me. These past few months have been hard for all of us, and if you're being threatened with jail time, I'm quite sure Murray would want to help in any way. How would you feel, if I didn't call you about any troubles Murray might be facing? Or if Murray did the same?"

The raccoon's jaw snapped shut, as he suddenly realized that Bentley was right. There was no way that Bentley would have completely ignored Murray, and refused to tell him about this problem. More guilt stung at his chest, as he realized that he'd already done more or less the same thing, by not telling Bentley all the details. The only thing that rung true in Sly's mind, was the fact that perhaps he shouldn't have come running to Bentley as soon as things starts taking a downward spiral. But then he also realized, that he'd already tried to deter the rising problems for months now, but was still in the same place he'd been in before he'd broken communications with his former gang. All of these thoughts whirled in his mind in mere seconds, as he sighed heavily, and leaned forward on his elbow, pushing aside his half eaten plate. "I guess you're right. I just wish I could have dealt with this on my own."

Bentley frowned, and exchanged another significant look with Penelope, until the turtle said, "I know. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is that we're all here to help, and just so you know, even Dimitri is willing to help."

Sly groaned loudly. "Don't tell me you called him too."

"Of course."

"Bentley!" the former thief shouted, dismayed that now most of his former gang now knew about his problems at Interpol. "Damn it, I can't believe you did that. How about you call up Mrs. Puffin? I'm sure she doesn't know about this yet."

"Very funny," Bentley sniffed irritably. Before Bentley could get another word in, Penelope voiced her own opinion on the matter.

"It's like I said before, Sly. We're not going to let you go at this alone, and if you think that running away again to deal with it on your own is the best idea, you have another thing coming."

A grimaced crossed Sly's features at hearing that, but nodded. To deny either of them the help they were willing to offer, would be a bad move, and Sly wasn't about to do that. Especially since he was still feeling broken up by what had happened with Carmelita. Deep down instead, he was feeling nervous about going back to Interpol, and facing her. He was tempted to not go, and try to figure out some other way to figure out who was framing him, but the grapple cam in his pocket already told him that doing so would give Bentley an excuse to interrogate him further. Finally, Sly nodded, and forced a grin for the two.

He stole a glance at the clock, and said, "damn, it's almost 9. I need to head off now." Both of them nodded, and followed Sly towards the door.

"Make sure to keep your cell phone on though. I know it's risky calling you while you're at Interpol, but I'm going to keep hacking into the database, and try to find anything else on Philip Bordeaux," Bentley said. "Call if anything happens, alright?"

Sly paused for a moment, taking in Bentley's tone of concern, and couldn't help but feel an immense rush of gratitude towards him.

Offering his friend a sincere smile, Sly simply said, "I'll make sure to get back to you."

* * *

Silently cursing to himself, the raccoon quickly ducked behind a garbage dumpster just as an Interpol cruiser drove by. He silenced himself as much as he could, even though he knew there wasn't any way for whoever was inside the car to hear him, and yet the raccoon let himself sink into the shadows the bin provided. It mostly came from the fact that he was sneaking into Interpol again, and he wasn't exactly dressed in the most inconspicuous of ways. Once the hum of the engine had faded, he ducked back out, and ran towards a pipe running up the side of Interpol's building, grabbing it, and beginning the climb up.

As he climbed, he had to wonder to himself why there was so much activity surrounding the building. Normally, the sections outside were free of anyone, and yet Sly had needed to hide and duck his head many times when he'd almost run straight into officers or cruisers. He mostly blamed his blunders on the fact that he was still feeling disoriented from what had happened the night before, and his own lack of sleep. He made a mental note in the back of his mind to try and see if he could possibly find out just why Interpol was on high alert. There was a suspicion in the back of his mind, but Sly wanted to be sure of it before jumping to conclusions.

His paw finally gripped onto the edge of a windowsill, and as carefully as he dared, he peeked inside. The cramped and messy office he was looking into, was empty as far as he could tell, with the door shut and the lights turned off; it seemed like Lady Luck was on his side again. A quick push on the window had Sly thanking his lucky stars once again, as it appeared that someone had forgotten to lock the window. With a grunt of effort, he shoved it open as slowly as he could so as not to alert anyone who happened to be outside the office, and slipped inside. His feet landed with a soft thud on the carpeted floor. Another quick look around had him confirming there was no one around, and he turned back to the window and slid it shut again.

Sly was careful in the way he walked, by making sure his bare feet made no noise on the linoleum flooring. The tiles were cold, but he barely felt it now, considering he'd been running around without shoes for close to 7 hours.

Crouching low, he snuck over to the door, and pressed an ear against it. There was no noise to indicate someone might be in the area, but Sly didn't want to risk doing something as stupid as barging right out the door. But since he had no way to actually check if someone was out there, he stuck with using his hearing.

After a few minutes of just listening, Sly decided to bite the bullet and go. He cautiously turned the doorknob, wincing when there was an audible click from the door; he only hoped that it hadn't alerted anyone. The door swung open soundlessly, much to his joy, as Sly slowly stepped out. He glanced quickly down both sides of the hallway, and saw it was devoid of anyone, which again he found a bit strange, but decided not to worry too much about it.

He eased himself out of the doorway, and shut the door silently behind himself, and then made his way slowly down the spacious hallway. A quick look at the door number told him he was on the same floor as Chief Barkley's office, the first place he had to go. After all, the raccoon had never stepped foot inside Bordeaux's office, so he had no clue where the canine worked. The best bet to find out, would be to check the Chief's files and see where Bordeaux's office was.

Another risky mission, but if it could somehow get some information Sly was sure Bordeaux was hiding, he was willing to take the plunge.

Sly had just bounded around the corner of the hallway to where he knew Barkley's office was, when he was suddenly tackled to the ground, landing in such a way where all the breath left his lungs. He was left gasping for air, until he heard a hair raising click, and the feel of cold metal against his wrists. Trying to twist around proved to be futile, as the body atop of his was heavier than he was, and their grip on his arms was strong to the point of almost hurting.

His eyes caught the sight of what seemed to be half a dozen Interpol officers, all of them pointing their shock pistols at him. The raccoon swallowed audibly, struggling against whoever it was that had tackled him, feeling fear trickle up his enough, Sly was pulled to his feet, and he found himself facing one of the last people he wanted to see at that point in time.

"Sly Cooper," Commissioner Arks said in a heavy voice. His glasses flashed white for a moment, until he said in a tone clear with authority, "you are under arrest for suspicion of robbery. You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law."

Sly's eyes widened at this. He shoved slightly at whoever was holding him in place, but was unable to get the strong grip off. "_What? _On what grounds?"

Commissioner Arks exhaled softly, and took his glasses off to clean them. "I'm sorry to say, but we know all about your feigned amnesia. And I'm afraid that with this new information, that we're unable to continue pretending that you are innocent."

The raccoon's heart seemed to plummet as he realized that only one person could have given the Commissioner this information. Still, he needed to hear this with his own ears, as his teeth clenched together. "And where the hell did you hear that from?"

It was with a grave look on his face, that Isaac responded with, "Inspector Fox told us."

Although Sly had been prepared to hear it, the words still caused his breath to hitch, and what felt like his heart stalling for a moment. His tongue suddenly felt 10 times to big for his mouth, as he just managed to stammer, "t-that has to be a lie. C-Carm was probably-"

"I'm sorry to say that it's her word against yours, Cooper," the Commissioner suddenly cut across the raccoon. His piercing amber gaze was disturbing to Sly, as there was no amount of warmth, or the familiar amusement in the Commissioner's eyes. "As much as I would like to believe that you're not at fault for those robberies, considering your past as a thief… My paws are tied here Cooper, you understand? I'm afraid we'll be transferring you to a jail not far from here, until we can set up a court date."

Sly was at a loss for words, which seemed to work well for the coyote to continue on his tirade.

"Inspector Triek, and Constable Hayes," Isaac addressed to the two officers, one of them being a lanky ferret and the other a heavy set lion. "If you'd take Cooper to one of the transfer vehicles. You know where it is you're taking him. I'd be careful handling him you two. Cooper is not one to be taken lightly."

A rough shove between the shoulder blades had Sly coming out of his shocked stupor, as he was suddenly pushed aside by Inspector Triek, the muscled lion, through the crowd of officers. Surprisingly, they all followed, the steady hum of shock pistols making Sly's ears ache. As he was led towards the van, the reality of the fact that he was actually going to jail was now starting to sink in. For some reason, it'd taken the raccoon some time to actually realize what was happening, as the blow from hearing that Carmelita had actually told Commissioner Arks about his amnesia, had wreaked havoc on his train of thought.

It wasn't until Sly was being seated on a cool metal bench right across Constable Hayes, that he came to terms with it. And somehow… he'd also come to accept it. The van's engine rumbled to life, and Sly was soon swaying as the vehicle began the trek towards wherever was he going to now.

Instead of feeling sorry for himself, Sly was beating himself up for being so stupid as to do what he had done.

_I'm an idiot. _

The shock had now turned to anger at himself, along with a strange sense of amusement that although he was going to jail, it'd be easy for him to get out. Possibly anyway, considering that the only reason he'd been able to escape the Contessa's prison the first time around, was because Bentley had been there to get him out.

He snuck a glance at Hayes, who appeared bored, with his arms across his chest, and staring idly at a point of the van's wall above Sly's head. The Constable looked rather young, with the typical white muzzle, and ears, and dark fur most ferrets had, along with a set of bright brown eyes.

A sigh escaped Sly, as he fiddled with the cuffs on his wrists, lamenting that he couldn't loosen them, or that he didn't have anything on him to pick the lock with. More than anything, it was just something that he could pass the time with, but Sly knew there wasn't any way he was getting out of this as easily as just opening the van's door.

Now that he was thinking with a clearer mind, Sly decided he might as well try to get some information out of the Constable. The hope that he would be able to garner enough information, and somehow get the info back to Bentley was calming Sly down somewhat. After all, he still had the grapple cam in his pocket, and he only hoped that he would somehow be able to keep it hidden from anyone who happened to search him at the jail.

Sly looked up at Hayes once more. "Hey."

The ferret jumped, blinked, and then looked over at the former thief. "What?"

"I know I'm a prisoner and all," Sly responded, "but you'd think Commissioner Arks would have the courtesy to tell me where I'm being taken to, right?"

Hayes looked taken aback by what had just been said, until he smirked slightly. "I think it's pretty obvious, Cooper."

Sly chuckled. "Maybe, but I'm just trying to make conversation here." At this, the ferret barked a laugh, shaking his head with mirth.

"You're a strange guy. Even when we're transferring you to jail in cuffs, you don't even show a hint of worry."

The raccoon remained silent, the hint of a smirk on his face to try and show that he wasn't actually worried about his situation. But of course, the truth was that Sly felt his stomach churning, and he was still feeling a bit unnerved by how the Commissioner had acted. For a fleeting moment, he wondered what Carmelita might be doing at that moment, but quickly buried the thought; it hurt too much to think about.

"I guess I'm just used to it," Sly finally answered.

There was another snort of laughter from Hayes, to the point that the ferret was actually doubling over. Once he managed to get his breath back, he said, "please, Cooper! You've only been arrested twice in your career as a thief. I don't think that makes you 'used to it.'"

Sly only chuckled himself, shooting a large grin at the Constable. Even though they had only just met, Sly somehow felt comfortable laughing with Hayes. It was a wonder he had yet to meet the ferret, but at the same time, he tried to clear his mind, knowing that his true intentions were still unanswered.

"You know, Cooper," Hayes spoke up again, unable to stop grinning, "you really make it difficult for me to dislike you. You're not such a bad guy for being a thief."

The raccoon couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips hearing that. Sly had always believed that most of the officers at Interpol had avoided him; which was true, considering that he'd only really made friends with Liam throughout the months he'd been there. Before he could say another word however, the van suddenly rocketed to the side, sending both men lurching forward.

Neither of them had a chance to properly recover, before something heavy seemed to ram straight into the side of the van, to the point that Sly was thrown forward with a loud thud. He was lucky not to hit his head against the edge of the bench when it happened, but his chest received the brunt of the blow.

Another bang hit the side of the van, this time causing the vehicle to swerve wildly

Hayes cursed loudly, and looked towards the small window that had been shut during their drive. From beyond the thick metal walls, they could hear Inspector Triek, who was the one driving the van, cursing loudly in Russian.

"What the hell's going-" Hayes' voice was suddenly cut off when the van unexpectedly lurched again, sending the ferret falling to the floor with a loud crack. He was silent afterwards, which had Sly trying to reach forward to check on the ferret, but wasn't given a chance to do a single thing.

Shrill honks, followed by screeching wheels caused Sly's ears to pin against his skull, before he felt himself flying forward when the entire van slid onto its side. Chaos ensued, with the raccoon unable to react properly, except to yell in surprise. Hayes' seemingly boneless body rolled along side him, blood splattering across the van's walls.

The vehicle rolled abruptly, causing Sly to fall forward again, this time hitting his head against the edge of the bench he'd been trying to avoid, the pain blossoming in his head causing his vision to blacken.

When Sly reopened his eyes again, everything was dark and he was lying against something cold and hard. It took him a minute to get his bearings, but when he finally blinked the fog away from his vision, he found himself staring out the window of the door, lying on what seemed to be one of the van's walls.

His head was pounding relentlessly, and he could feel the warm trickle of blood from a cut on his forehead. Tentatively he took a shaking paw to the wound, the chains on his wrists clinking together, as he hissed when the cut stung at his touch.

_What… happened?_

A groan escaped from his mouth, and he sat up as best he could with his paws still cuffed together, making the descent upwards difficult. Eventually Sly leaned up against the cold wall of the van, and the realized that it was currently lying on its side. The acrid taste blood was on his tongue, and his nose caught a whiff of gasoline. Sly instantly recognized the uniform beside him and he swallowed loudly when he saw blood running from a jagged cut on the Hayes' head, where he'd hit it against the bench.

He reached forward shakily, and shook the ferret. "Constable..." Sly was surprised to hear his own voice, as it came out sounding hoarse and weak. There was no response from Hayes, the man still with the exception of his heavy breathing. Unable to do much else, the raccoon decided that perhaps trying to get help would be the best thing to do.

Sly trembled slightly as he tried to stand to his feet, wobbling every once in a while from his position. His equilibrium seemed to have disappeared, so he leaned heavily against the van's wall to try and steady himself.

Finally unable to allow himself to appear weak, even if alone, the raccoon crawled his way forward, and leaned a shoulder against the doors. He tested them with a small shove, and found that they didn't seem to want to move. But it was the only way out, and a small bit of light was coming in from a gap in the doors themselves. So, with a grunt, he pushed a bit harder, and the doors began to buckle slightly under the pressure, until they gave way suddenly, sending the raccoon sprawling onto his side with a yelp.

Pain lanced across his joints and head, so Sly took a moment to catch his breath.

He squinted in the bright light outside, and his ears just caught the sound of voices yelling, and sirens in the distant.

Sly turned his head, unable to see properly but he did see a shadow begin to walk calmly towards him. Unsure if it was friendly or not, Sly wanted to move away but his body refused to answer his calls. So he waited where he lay until a sigh of relief escaped him when he recognized an Interpol badge buttoned to the front of the figure's dark shirt.

He was just about to speak up, when there was an unsettling click, and Sly's ears flattened against his skull.

Eyes widening to see the officer pulling a shock pistol on him, Sly's jaw fell open as he caught a glimpse of who the officer was.

"You-"

Electricity suddenly surged through the raccoon's body. His heart seemed to stop, and his nerves all overloaded with pain. He couldn't help the yell of agony that rent from his lungs as his body twitched, and convulsed from the voltage. Slumping to the ground with his fur smouldering slightly from the current, Sly felt weak, his limbs now going limp, and numb. His already injured head hit the pavement with another crack, making his head spin, and his eyes flutter.

He vaguely caught someone else speaking, before his eyes finally shut and everything went black again.

* * *

**Whoops, a cliffhanger? I'll be honest here, and say this is **the** chapter I've been most looking forward to writing since starting this story, haha. The unfortunate thing is, I think I was unable to properly convey what I really wanted to do but... Not much I can do now.**

**So who could be the mysterious person who shot Sly? Even I****'****m not sure. Okay that****'****s a lie, but it****'****d be lovely to hear who you all think it might be. Although I guess it could be pretty obvious but... we'll see how it goes. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope this chapter was an enjoyable as the ones before!**


	15. Ghost

**There's no excuse for taking so long to update this time around. **

**I'm so sorry that I left you all hanging with that horrendous cliffhanger last chapter, haha. But I supposed it's better I got it out now, rather than just leaving the story hanging like that. Again, I'm sorry this took so long to write; it wasn't my intention at all. A quick thanks to everyone for the amazingly kind reviews even with my absence. You certainly helped remind me that I had left this story alone for far too long. **

**I really hope this chapter makes up for the last one, haha. And I promise not to leave it on ice for that long either.**

**Disclaimer****: **I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by SuckerPunch. Any characters not recognized belong to me, however.

* * *

Chapter 15: Ghost

* * *

"_The customer you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please hang up or-"_

Bentley cursed loudly, as he stabbed a finger on the 'end call' button on his phone. This was the fourth time he'd called Sly, and he had yet to receive an answer. He'd even left messages each time, but had received no response so far. And his exasperation was starting to morph into worry about what had happened. Was Sly okay? Why wasn't he answering his phone? _Could_ he answer his phone?

The turtle was redialling for the fifth time, when his girlfriend's voice filtered in from the living room.

"Bentley, I think you might want to see this…"

Quickly wheeling himself into the living room, he stopped beside the couch where Penelope was seated, her eyes wide behind her glasses as she watched the TV with rapt attention. A frown pulled at his lips at seeing this, so he turned his head to see what had her looking so shocked. His eyes soon began to widen just as Penelope's were, his mouth opening wide.

Penelope had been in the middle of watching the news, which seemed to have just switched over to a live feed of an accident somewhere near a café. A tall, and rather thin looking leopardess with almond shaped eyes, had just appeared on screen, talking directly towards the camera. Just behind her figure, the clear signs of car crash had managed to throw the entire street into chaos. Fire fighters were currently dousing several fires out on the streets, while Interpol officers were evacuating people from the streets and buildings nearby.

"We are currently at the scene of the accident, where an Interpol van swerved off the road, and crashed into several other vehicles, before flipping over in the middle of the street. Several injured have been attended to, while two Interpol officers were pulled from the wreckage. Constable Cameron Hayes, aged 22, has been taken to _Broussais University Hospital_ with serious injuries, while Inspector Viktor Triek, aged 25, was pronounced dead at the scene," the reporter paused for a moment, and gestured towards the chaos behind her. "As you can tell, Interpol is hard at work getting the streets back under control, and reassures us that soon it will be back to normal."

She suddenly paused when there was a gruff voice just off camera.

The camera flanked to the left, focusing on a stout badger, that Bentley recognized as being the Chief. He opened his mouth to mention it to Penelope, but was immediately shushed by her.

"Excuse me, but I have something important to say," Barkley grunted, looking as professional as he could with a wrinkled dress shirt, and tousled moustache. The badger nodded towards the reporter, who still looked surprised at being interrupted, until she seemed to come to her senses, and immediately brought her microphone forward, so that Barkley could be heard clearly. He nodded a quick thanks to her, before shifting his gaze back to look directly into the camera. "This is a notice that both the Commissioner, and I believe is important for the general public to know." He took a deep breath, before continuing. "Tonight, we had Sly Cooper in custody on the very van that caused the accident only a few hours ago. As Interpol continues to investigate the cause, we can safely say that this was no accident. Sly Cooper is now missing, and we would like anyone with information to his whereabouts, to please contact the number that we will provide in a short moment. It's imperative that we get any information in order to have Sly Cooper back in custody."

The badger stopped speaking and looked back towards the reporter, who looked a bit taken aback, but quickly snapped back to attention. She cleared her throat, and looked back towards the camera. "Of course. The number will be provided once we go back to Kevin Gills at the studio." As she spoke, Barkley was seen speaking to another of the camera crew, obviously in contact with the station to provide the number. "We would like to remind you that any information is critical to the recapture of this notorious thief. Interpol requests that you call their toll free number straight away. Furthermore-"

Penelope suddenly shut the TV off, snapping Bentley back to reality.

He looked straight at her, as they both realized that the situation had just taken a dire turn. Penelope was the first to speak up.

"What are we going to do?" She turned to him, looking extremely worried over the fate of their friend. The small sections they'd been able to see on the TV had not shown much, but from what the could tell, it'd been enough to cause worry. Bentley was silent, until he swallowed the large lump in his throat.

"I'm… I'm not sure, but we'll think of something." He turned towards her, and tried to give her the best reassuring smile he could; but even he could tell it wasn't enough, as Penelope's brows furrowed together, and she bit down on her bottom lip. "You have to remember, this isn't the first time we've been encountered a situation like this."

_Except we haven't, _whispered a mocking voice in the back of Bentley's mind, but he quickly shook it off. He couldn't allow himself to fall into a mess, as he had to think with a clear mind in order to use his brain to full capacity. The fact remained, that even though Interpol was going to be snooping around and looking for Sly, this wasn't going to stop any of them from looking for Sly as well.

Despite still looking unconvinced, she gave a furtive nod. "Alright… I think we should hack into Interpol's files, and see if we can possibly listen in on any of the calls they get. We'll get more information that way."

"Sounds good," Bentley agreed, falling back into his plan making mode. "And I can have Murray and Dimitri go out into the streets, and try to find what clues they can. I highly doubt that Interpol is going to be able to do this on their own."

At this, Penelope smiled weakly. "You're right. We always help them, even if they don't like it." She suppressed a giggle, before falling back into a worried look, which brought Bentley wheeling forward and pulling her forward so that his could wrap an arm across her small shoulders. The young mouse lay her head against his neck, and muttered, "I'm just worried that something serious happened to him. I can't imagine how you're handling this, let alone how Murray will."

Silence fell over the pair once more. Although Bentley was worried, he was also determined to do whatever he could to find out where Sly was. It was obvious that there was foul play at hand here, especially with the fact that Interpol had no idea what had happened to Sly. The fact remained, that if they were going to do something, they had to do it quickly before something else could happen to their raccoon friend.

Sighing, Bentley shook his head, squeezing his hand on Penelope's shoulder.

"Well, I can assure you that even though I'm worried, this isn't going to stop me from looking for my brother." He paused when there was a knock at the door, which he knew had to be most likely Dimitri, as Murray had told them that he would get there as soon as he could, but he was currently in Germany and it could take a while. "That has to be Dimitri," Bentley murmured, squeezing Penelope's shoulder once more and pulling away. "Come on, we have a job to do here."

* * *

Carmelita could only use one word to describe the scene before her: _chaotic._

The shrill sound of sirens, and the steady drone of people speaking was enough to cause a pounding headache, which the vixen was quick to start trying to rub away. She was exhausted and emotionally drained from all the drama that had occurred that very night. It had taken all her energy to stumble from her apartment to the scene, after receiving a call from Liam, who had been one of the first officers called on scene.

"Just get here as soon as you can," was all the feline had been willing to say. The way his usually confident voice had trembled slightly was enough to cause Carmelita worry, and she had rushed straight to there.

Her eyes searched the pandemonium around her, unsure of how to take it all in.

From her vantage point just as she eased herself from her car, she could see just what had drawn everybody's attention. The scene of the accident was certainly shocking to say the least, with an entire intersection completely shut down. Several cars were crushed against one another, but from what she could see, no bodies were actually trapped inside; which was a relief to say the least. However, the thing that drew her attention the most, was the sight of an Interpol van lying on its side, completely decimated on the side not against the ground. Glass littered the pavement, along with dark splatters of what could only be blood. The crowd that had gathered to see the accident was currently being pushed back by several Interpol officers, while others milled the scene, collecting evidence, and taking pictures of what they could.

Much to her horror, Carmelita spotted the dark coroner's truck along side a duo of ambulances, currently wheeling a black body bag into the back. Her heart leapt into her throat as she flashed her badge at one of the officers, and raced into the very heart of the chaos.

From up close, it was clear that accident was serious, especially when her nose caught the unmistakable scent of blood, gasoline, and what she could only pin as burnt fur. It was enough to cause her to scrunch her nose in disgust, but before she could move any closer to the prone van, she spotted a familiar sandy furred figure that could only be Commissioner Arks speaking with Captain De Luca. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Chief Barkley also speaking with a TV reporter and camera, obviously trying to give information to the public.

About what, she didn't know.

Approaching the two authority figures, she paused for a moment when she realized that they were both deep in discussion. Carmelita kept her mouth shut to try and see if perhaps she could get some more information.

"Are you sure about this?" the coyote was saying in a tense voice as he looked over the information in a folder he has in paw.

De Luca was quick to confirm with a nod. "I'm sure, Commissioner. We found an Interpol issued shock pistol on scene. Forensics has taken it to try and get some sort of prints from it, but it seems as though this pistol belonged to Inspector Triek. And unfortunately, we can't interrogate him."

The Commissioner cursed under his breath, his brow furrowing. He sighed, and lifted his eyes to look at De Luca directly and said, "alright. I want you, and a small team of officers to scan the area, and try to find anyone who happened to be at the scene. It's impossible to say that no one was here to witness what happened."

"What about Constable Hayes?"

"Have someone question him once he regains consciousness," he replied, placing the folder back into De Luca's waiting paw. "I don't want any stone unturned. This is a serious matter."

"Of course," De Luca agreed. He went to say something else, when he finally noticed the shorter female just behind the Commissioner. The sudden silence was enough to bring Isaac's attention around to the vixen.

"Inspector Fox," he said in a terse tone, very unlike his usually calm demeanour. "I see Inspector Nathans contacted you."

Unable to find her voice, the vixen nodded.

A drawn out and weary sigh escaped the canine, who turned back to De Luca, fixing the grizzly with a steady look. Taking the hint, De Luca gave a salute and was quick to vanish, his gruff voice calling out orders to several officers in the vicinity.

Silence fell over the two, until Carmelita broke it. "Commissioner. What the hell is going on here?"

Isaac gave the vixen a long, side ways glance, noting that her eyes were fixated on the van still currently being given a once over. Interpol was still waiting for a tow truck to come to the scene, and pull the van back upright. He let out another sigh.

"This isn't easy to hide away," he admitted, "considering that we've had to tell the public about Sly Cooper still being alive."

Carmelita turned back to the Commissioner, a frown pulling at her lips. Just taking a quick look at her superior, she was able to see just how much stress he seemed to be under. The normally well dressed, and calm canine, now looked like a mess, with his well kept fur standing on end, and his glasses just slightly askew on his nose. There were lines crossing his forehead, and eyes, making Isaac appear much older than he really was. When he noticed her looking at him, he flicked his eyes back to her, and frowned slightly himself.

"Does the public know that he was working for Interpol?" she asked quietly. The vixen felt a hurtful sting in her chest, her lungs constricting slightly as she remembered what had occurred only a few hours ago.

Isaac ran another paw through his short head fur. "No. All the public knows, is that we were transferring a once thought dead thief to a prison cell."

Carmelita's mouth thinned in a line. "Couldn't you have done something to prevent this from happening? You told me that Sly was going to be okay!"

Her accusations were enough to cause the Commissioner's normally collected demeanour to fall apart.

"Did you think that I planned all-" Isaac thrust a paw forward to gesture at the chaos around them, "-_this?_ You'd do well to remember that I tried my best to keep everything under wraps at Interpol, including breaking a few laws myself to prevent the entire situation from spiralling out of control. Do you honestly believe that this is something I _wanted?_"

Surprise crossed Carmelita's face, as Isaac's words continued to explode out of him, each word feeling like a bullet to the chest. His voice continued to rise as he spoke, now drawing attention from all the officers around, shock coming across their faces. No one had ever seen the Commissioner lose control like this.

"An officer is _dead _because of this, we have no clue where Cooper could have run off to if he even survived the crash, and there are not witnesses willing to come forward. Inspector Fox, I would think before accusing me of not doing whatever I could to prevent all of this from happening."

An eerie sort of silence fell over the two, both of them staring at each other. Eventually, Isaac's eyes lost their spark of fury, and he took a shaky breath. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes for a brief moment before saying, "my apologies, Inspector. I didn't mean to lose my temper with you."

"No," Carmelita murmured softly, still taken a back. "I'm sorry for accusing you like that. I'm just…" She trailed off, her words leaving a hanging silence over them. Her eyes flickered back towards the van, that she only now noticed had had its back doors forced open. Fear gripped her, when she realized that there was a dark stain near the door that she hadn't noticed at first. The only conclusion she could come up with, was that it was Sly's blood.

Isaac seemed to notice her apprehension. "I understand that you're worried about Cooper. You can rest assured, that we are doing our best to try and find him."

She didn't answer, but the canine had not expected her to. He took a quick glance at her, and noticed that although she was a bit calmer, it was obvious that she was still feeling exceptionally strained from the night before. Isaac shook his head, realizing that having Inspector Nathans call her in had been a mistake.

Searching the crowd, he finally spotted the black furred panther directing a weasel towards a section of alleyway that could have been a means of escape for the former raccoon thief. Isaac took another quick look at Carmelita, and said, "excuse me, Inspector."

Carmelita started at the words, but looked up and nodded in understanding. She couldn't really expect the Commissioner to drop everything to comfort her. Looking away, she didn't see that the canine had gone forward to speak with Liam, and instead, turned to walk a bit closer to the van.

It was a bit obvious from a closer look that the van had been run off the road. From the looks of it, the van had run straight into a commercial car, who had then spun out of control and crashed into another car, thus creating a domino effect. The smell of gasoline was strongest here causing the headache the vixen was feeling to spike slightly. She knelt down near the dark stain on the ground, and studied the way it looked, trying to imagine what had happened. From the little information she'd gathered from Commissioner Arks and De Luca's brief conversation, she knew that the recently deceased Inspector Triek's shock pistol had been used. Carmelita deduced it was probably used against Sly himself, which explained the pungent odour of burnt fur that was strongest here. Because of that, Carmelita knew that the shock pistol was most likely turned on high, and she was worried about the effects of it. If it'd been turned up too high, it could have possibly killed Sly, but she was quick to dismiss that from mind.

The stain wasn't as large as she'd first thought, but it was enough to make her worry even more. It looked as though Sly had either been wounded during the crash, or someone had injured him before shooting him with the shock pistol. Briefly, Carmelita went through a number of suspects, but came up empty on all accounts.

No one at Interpol had wanted to do this to Sly, right?

"Inspector Fox."

The vixen jumped at the sound of her name, and looked up to see that Liam, joined by the Commissioner, was standing behind her. Worry filled his green eyes, as he gave her a tentative smile. She stood up, still feeling exhausted but alert.

"What is it?" she asked warily.

"I think we have more than enough officers at the scene," Commissioner Arks spoke up, stepping forward so that he could give her a small smile. "I'd rather if you'd go home, and get some much needed rest. From the looks of it, you could really use it."

Carmelita blinked, a bit taken aback. However, she soon she shot back incredulously, "so what, you want me to just _abandon_ everything? This is Cooper we're talking about! I'm not about to sit back, twiddling my thumbs and let Interpol do everything!"

"Inspector," Isaac replied back calmly, instantly halting Carmelita's fury. "What I meant, was for you to get some much needed rest. After you've done so, you can help on the case. I understand how hard this must be for you, Inspector."

She opened her mouth to reply back, but soon came to the realization she'd be unable to argue her way out of leaving, given by the hard look in the Commissioner's eyes. Sighing heavily, Carmelita mumbled what sounded like an affirmation, bringing a satisfied smile to Isaac's lips.

"Inspector Nathans," he turned towards the panther. "I'd appreciate it if you'd accompany Inspector Fox to her apartment. Given the situation, it could be said that because she was so close with Sly Cooper, that she could possibly be a target as well."

Liam nodded, as Carmelita hid a roll of her eyes.

They were speaking as though she wasn't there, but it was fine with her for the moment. She knew that the Commissioner was only looking out for her, but it was also tiresome to be treated like this when she was more than capable of taking care of herself. There was also the problem that she had wanted to use the opportunity to go by Sly's apartment, and check to see if he had possibly (though it was unlikely) gone back there.

Liam's paw on her shoulder brought the vixen back to reality. She blinked, and looked up to see him grinning cautiously at her.

"Come on, let's get back your apartment, alright?" he said softly, leading her away from the scene.

As she was turned almost forcefully, Carmelita took one last glance at prone van. She could only hope that nothing serious had happened to Sly during the time that they were going to be investigating the case. Carmelita and Liam drifted through the still gathered crowd, and stopped in front of her car. His held out paw had the vixen a bit put off, and her eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"I'm going to drive," Liam explained carefully. "You look like you're going to keel over any second, and I'd rather avoid that while we're in the car."

He hadn't said anything to make it click with Sly, but Carmelita felt herself grimace at the notion of it. She eventually sighed, and dropped her keys in his waiting paw, climbing into her convertible without another word. The panther let out of a deep breath he'd been keeping in. If he was honest with himself, he'd been nervous that the vixen's anger was just under the surface. And although he could see it, she hadn't actually lashed out just yet. He took a quick glance at her, and noted that she did appear exhausted, with her eyes red rimmed and slightly puffy, and her normally well kept curls tangled, as though she'd run her fingers through them many times over the hours.

He soon joined her, climbing into the driver's seat of her red convertible The engine rumbled to life as he turned the key, pulling the car into drive, and making his way carefully down the streets towards Carmelita's apartment.

Silence fell over the both of them. Liam wasn't sure if it was because of the air whistling in their ears, or if it was because Carmelita just didn't want to talk. Of course, he was sure that she was still extremely worried about Sly, so the panther preferred to keep himself silent in order to let her think. It wasn't until he had stopped at a red light, that Carmelita finally spoke up.

"I have a favour to ask."

Blinking, Liam took his eyes off the road for a moment, and looked over at the tense vixen. "What is it?" he asked carefully, already suspecting what she was about to ask.

Her face was impassive, impossible to read. This had a frown pulling at Liam's lips.

"I want to go to Sly's apartment," she finally said, the sudden declaration making Liam freeze for a moment. He stared at her, ignoring the honks from behind when the light turned green and he didn't go straight away. Swallowing loudly, the panther pulled the car out from the stop light, and didn't answer straight away. He was a bit wary of taking the vixen there, considering what had happened, and he was sure that she was still not over what had happened. Liam didn't know the full story just yet, but he had his suspicions of course.

He could feel her eyes on him. A heavy sigh escaped him, as the panther scratched at the rough fur on his chin.

"Alright, fine," Liam finally caved, seeing the grateful smile on her face out of the corner of his eye. "But we're going to your apartment right after. No arguments."

Sure," she answered, clearly relieved that Liam hadn't argued with her.

Unsure as to why he had given in, the panther turned on one of the turn signals on the convertible, and changed their course, heading straight for the familiar apartment buildings that Sly lived in. About 15 minutes after exchanged words, Liam was pulling into the parking lot the building had to offer. He didn't turn the engine off, instead letting it idle, as he turned towards the vixen in front of him. He took a moment to steel himself before speaking.

"Look, Carmelita before you-" Before he could say anything else though, the vixen was climbing out of the red convertible, and rushing to the front doors. _Damn it_, he cursed, quickly throwing the car in park and following the red furred vixen to Sly's apartment.

Slightly out of breath, Liam had reached the floor Sly's apartment was on, and arrived in time to see Carmelita ducking under the yellow tape that had spanned the door. He was a little surprised that there were no officers around, but decided to shrug in it off in favour of following the vixen.

His nose scrunched up to state the apartment was in, as he stepped into the apartment. Carmelita's head quickly took a pass of the living area where glass still glittered on the floor, before heading over to the door that led to Sly's bedroom. Liam was tempted to stop her, but decided against it.

Carmelita's tail disappeared into the room, and he could distinctly hear her rummaging about, most likely checking the closets and the windows there to see if perhaps the raccoon had snuck in. While she did that, Liam checked over the area again, stepping carefully over the glass strewn about on the floor, and checked the windows himself. He had already done this beforehand only a few hours ago, but wanted to make sure that they hadn't left any stone unturned.

After all, the accident had only occurred a few hours ago, and for all they knew Sly could have snuck back into his apartment to grab what necessary items he needed. Yes, the scenario seemed a bit impossible, but Liam wasn't beyond thinking it. The raccoon had been a thief at one point, and he was sure that perhaps he remembered some of it, even if it was only unconsciously.

Liam was checking the locks on the window again, when footsteps alerted him to the fact that Carmelita had returned. From the sigh she gave, it was obvious she hadn't found anything, but Liam hadn't turned back to face her. His eyes had caught what seemed to be a bit of fur on the side of one of the windows.

Curious, he went to unlatch the window, when her phone started to read. Liam decided to ignore it for now, as he was intent on getting to the patch of fur that Interpol had missed on their sweep of the apartment.

However, Carmelita's phone continue to ring for much longer than Liam thought it should, until he finally turned to see what had happened. His brows rose in surprise to see the vixen standing completely still in the middle of the room, staring straight at the ringing phone in her paw. Once he got over his surprise, Liam strode forward, and placed a paw gently on her shoulder.

"Carmelita?" She appeared to come to her senses, only jumping slightly under his paw. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at the taller feline, causing a frown to pull at his lips. Now concern was starting to take over. "What is it?"

Silently, she put the phone up for him to see, and the name on it had Liam's eyes widening in shock.

* * *

The first thing that hit him was the pain.

Sly was not expecting to come back to his senses with an ache that seemed to resonate from his very bones. His muscles felt weak, like strung out spaghetti, as he found that moving his limbs was struggle in of itself. The throbbing in his head made it hard to think properly, as he took a deep breath, instantly regretting it. Gasping slightly, Sly forced his head up, biting back a groan. There was a fleeting moment where he wondered where he was, but that thought was pushed to the back of his mind when another wave of agony washed over him. Just moving even a little bit caused his entire body to seize up slightly from the pain. Sly groaned, prying his eyes open to see where he was, but found that he only opened them to inky blackness.

He blinked, but found that the sight did not change. It took him half a minute too long to realize he was wearing a blindfold. Swallowing what little moisture he had left in his mouth, Sly moved his head to the side, trying to get a feel for where he was. From what he could tell, he was seated in a chair with ropes wound around his chest, ankles, and wrists. Moving sent more pain resonating up his limbs, but otherwise, Sly realized that he was bound tightly, with no means of moving an inch.

Just the slight shift of his wrists, was enough to cause him to let out of a pain filled hiss as the coarse rope there dug straight into his flesh, rubbing the fur raw.

He lifted his head once more, knowing that it was useless to see where he was, and yet he tried to squint past the dark fabric anyway.

The only good thing about the blindfold, was that his other senses were starting to spike up as he started becoming more alert. His ears twitched slightly to hear the soft hum of what had to be some sort of generator close by, along with the dripping of water from somewhere else. It was cold in the place he was in, but from what he could tell, there was no wind from outside, meaning he was locked in what had to be an airtight room of sorts.

Shifting in the seat slightly, Sly's breath hitched when his ribs gave another awful twinge. He was breathless for a moment, hunching forward as much as he could to try and ease the agony in his ribs. It was obvious that the accident had injured him a bit more than he'd first thought. And although he couldn't confirm it himself either, it was also obvious that the slight tremble and weakness in his muscles was because of the shock pistol blast. Even now, he only just noticed the acrid odor of his own burnt fur, most likely the fur on his chest having been singed because of the intensity of the pistol bullet.

His jaw clenched as he remembered that instance, but chose to throw that out the window in order to concentrate on his escape.

As his breathing eased, Sly sat up a bit straighter, and moved his wrists once more. The rope was tight, and he sincerely wished he had some sort of knife on him. Despite rubbing the flesh on his wrists raw, Sly kept moving, trying to find some sort of weakness to the bonds.

He had no clue where he was, but Sly was not about to stay there and find out.

As he continued to struggle against the ropes, his ears twitched to hear the sound of a door opening, followed by a pair of footsteps. He tensed up, turning his head towards the sound baring his fangs in anger. He had no clue who this was but Sly wasn't about to let himself appear weak, even as his ribs protested the movements he was making, and his headache flared.

The footsteps stopped right in front of him, and he felt a paw stroke the fur on his cheeks. He pulled away, shocked by the affection, but his movements were followed by more tender strokes. Shivering, Sly demanded, "who the hell are you?"

There was a soft titter from whoever it was that had been stroking his cheek, the very sound of which had Sly tensing up, a tendril of shock sending cold shivers up his spine.

"Oh, Poodle," a feminine voice replied, biting back giggles. "I can't believe you would forget about me so easily."

Sly couldn't form any words, but could only imagine how ridiculous he looked with a blindfold on, and his jaw slack with shock. He felt a finger slide across his cheek, and lift his head slightly to get at the knot on his blindfold. The black cloth came away, instantly blinding Sly as the unnatural brightness of the room shone directly into his eyes. His breathing hitched, the headache between his eyes throbbing angrily, but he forced himself to squint past it to try and confirm his suspicions.

At first, he couldn't see much as the entire room had become white washed by his sudden blindness. But he could see a shadowed figure standing just in front of him, the curves they had definitely female. Despite that, he couldn't make out many other features, but the voice had been so hauntingly familiar, that he knew there was no other reason for it be someone else. And then he saw the green eyes. His eyes widened in alarm, but he unable to speak the name, even as the purple tigress came into focus, her full lips pulling into a smile.

He finally managed it, when her paw came forward and stroked the fur on his cheek again.

"_Neyla__…_"

It was a chore to push the name past his numb lips. The name felt rusty and foreign in his mouth, and left an even nastier aftertaste that made him want to gag. She seemed to notice the grimace that crossed his face, but appeared not to be bothered by it.

He watched silently as she leaned over him, the image so nearly close to how she had looked nearly 2 years ago. The tigress appeared as she had beforehand, with her long ebony hair pulled away from her round face, and green eyes, with the exception of the ruby she normally wore over her brow now gone along with the red and gold scarf she normally wore gone as well. Although she wasn't wearing the exact clothing from 2 years ago, it was fairly reminiscent of it, with her wearing a dark red crop top, black pants, and dark combat boots; from where she got the clothing from, Sly didn't know, nor did he care. There were a few scars, from what Sly could see, crossing her collar bone, and across her bare arms and torso, but many of them appeared to be lost under her clothing.

She appeared almost whole, with nothing out of place; with the exception of her arm.

From the shoulder down, the entire limb had been replaced by metal, almost giving him a sick reminder of Clockwerk's own engineering. The metal looked to be exceptionally strong, but well crafted to perfect mimic what her arm had once been.

"It's nice to see you still remember my name, Sly," she said softly, reaching forward to run her fingers through his fur. Sly's jaw clenched in anger as he pulled his head away advances. The action caused her emerald eyes to widen slightly, but then narrow dangerously, the pupils receding to mere pinpoints. "Don't you dare pull away from me."

Before Sly could even think of reacting, something heavy slammed into the side of his head. It wasn't enough to cause him to lose consciousness, but stars exploded across his vision, and he was left disoriented. One of Neyla's paws grabbed onto his head fur, and pulled his head upwards so that he could look eye to eye with the tigress. Sly could barely see, his eyes watering from the hit, and he could feel a slight warmth trickle down his head from what had to be a cut on the side of his head now. For a moment, he wondered if she had used the metallic limb to strike him, but those thoughts raced out of his mind when Neyla's other paw cupped his chin, and forced him to look eye to eye with her.

He growled, in an attempt to show that he wasn't at all affected by the hit, but it came out feebly, only causing her to smile.

"Oh, Sly," she crooned, running a finger across the cut she had just inflicted on him. The raccoon hissed in pain, as the cut stung fiercely from her touch. "Did I hurt you?"

Unable to hold his tongue, Sly lashed back with, "what the hell do _you_ think?"

He barely had any warning, before Neyla's paw left his head fur and shot forward, clenching around his throat. Sly's eyes widened, as he struggled to move away from the obstruction on his throat, but because of the ropes holding him in place he couldn't move an inch.

Choking, Sly bared his fangs in an attempt to appear fearless, even though he could see darkness creeping into his vision. A small finger of fear tickled in his chest, as it became even more difficult to breathe as time went on. Eventually, her grip weakened, but Sly was still unable to take a proper breath of air, because of her paw.

"Look what you've done now," Neyla chastised, clicking her tongue in distaste. She'd completely ignored his spoken words, instead, choosing to mock the choking raccoon. "You'll have to forgive me, Sly, but my temper is a bit short nowadays."

Sly had no breath to retaliate with as the pressure suddenly increased on his throat, causing the raccoon to gasp for air, and gag again. While she was choking him, her other paw pulled out a cellphone from her pants; _his_ cellphone, Sly was just barely able to notice. The grin on her face had a shiver running up his spine. Blood began to run down his collarbone, as the claws on Neyla's paw dug into his flesh. She then leaned forward, and whispered into his ear:

"How about we give ol' Ironsides a call, hmm?"

* * *

**Phew****…**** Okay I hope that wasn****'****t too bad for you readers. It feels like this chapter was a bit shorter/not up to par than usual, but maybe that's just me… and I'm sorry I left it at such a horrible part again, haha. Don't worry readers, I assure you, things only get worse before they get better.**

… **Wait****…**


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